




SUPREME C0I]NaL,o3° 


Southern Jurisdiction, U.S.A. 
Washington, D.C. 


Class No 


.Ectloa-, 


F' 


W. H. MOERISON, 

BOOKSELLEK, 
WA8HINUTON, D. C. 



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ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF 


A NOVEL 



BY 


Gr MANVILLE FENN 


AUTHOR OF “ THE STORY OP ANTONY GRACE,” “DOUBLE CUNNING,” 
“ THE MASTER OF THE CEREMONIES,” ETC. 


LIBRARY 

OF THE 

SUP.'.COUNCJL, 

SO. •JURISDICTION. 


NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1888 











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ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF 


CHAPTER I. 

ONE OP HEE VICTIMS. 

Seven o’clock in the morning, and chee-op — chee-op — chee-op — cJiimip — • 
pew-yew — a splendid thrush waking the echoes with his loud notes ; the 
blackbirds down in the copse whistling a soft love-song to their silent 
mates, waiting in their cup-like nests for the first chip of the blotched 
eggs; Ccelebs, the chaffinch, pouring down tinkling strains from the 
pink-blossomed apple-trees ; while the larks high above the young corn 
and clover, twittered their joyous hymn in rivalling accord to the May- 
morning sun. The dew lay heavy and cold upon the tawny, sweet- 
scented wallflowers, and the freshness of feeling in the shade whispered 
that the silvery whiteness of their hues was not far removed from frost. 

So thought the Reverend Arthur itosebury, as he stood contemplating 
the flower-beds in front of the quaint old Rectory, whose windows were 
framed in the opening blossoms of a huge snakey-stemmed wistaria, 
one of which windows — his own — was wide open, and had been for an 
hour, while its fellow over the little drawing-room was delicately draped 
in snowy dimity. 

Geraniums formed the subject of the Reverend Arthur’s contempla- 
tion as he stood upon the closely-shaven, dewy lawn ; and he had just 
come to the conclusion that he had better wait another week before 
filling his beds with the scarlet trusses, when there was the feharp sound 
of brass rings upon a rod. The dimity curtains were drawn aside, the 
Gisement window was opened and carefully hooked back, and the kit- 
cat living portrait of a pleasant plump little woman of about forty ap- 
peared in the frame. 

“Arthur, I’m sure you are getting your feet wet,” she chirped. 

The tall, very thin curate of Little Magnus looked dreamily up at 
the window, and then down at his feet, stooping a good deal to obtain 
a nearer view. Slowly rising, he looked up at the window again, took 
off his soft felt hat, smoothed his thin gray hair, and said slowly : 

‘ ‘ No, my dear, I think not.” 

* But I’m sure you must be, Arthur ; it’s a very heavy dew ! ” cried 
the little lady, emphatically. 

“ Yes, my dear Mary,” he replied, in a slow, deprecating way, “ ii. 
is a very heavy dew, but I have got on my goloshes.” 

“ Ho ! ” exclaimed the little lady, and she disappeared. 

Tho Reverend Arthur Rosebury began to make a peculiar humming 
noise, somewhat suggestive of a large bumble-bee trying to practise a 


2 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


chant, •which was his idea of singing, and was walking slowly off to- 
wards a laurel-shaded walk when the little lady once more appeared at 
the window. 

“Arthur ! ” 

“ Yes, my dear Mary.’* 

“ Don’t you go far away ; breakfast won’t be long,” 

“ No, my dear Mary.” 

“ Where shall you be ? ” 

“ Down by the bees.” 

“ You’ll come when I whistle? ” 

“Yes, my dear Mary.” 

The lady disappeared once more, and the curate of Little Magnus 
W'ent slowly and deliberately down the garden of the Eeetory, where he 
had been for many years resident ; the wealthy rector, who was a canon 
of Dunchester, finding a sermon or two a year nearly jili he could give 
to the little parish. 

The bees were visited, both those dwelling in the round-topped, old- 
fashioned straw hives and the occupants of the modern square boxes, 
cunningly contrived to enable the proprietor to commit honied bur- 
glaries without adding bee-murder to the offence. 

The bees were as busy as those immortalized by Dr. Watts, and 
coming and going in the bright sunshine, making a glorious hum in a 
snowy cherry-tree close at hand, and suggesting to the curate’s mind 
ample supplies of the cloying sweet, about five hundredweights of 
which he hoped to sell at a shilling a pound. 

The Reverend Arthur went slowly away, smiling in his heart — he 
rarely smiled visibly — happy and thankful for his lot ; opened the white 
gate in the tall green hedge, and after closing it carefully, began to 
•walk across the drenched grass, a couple of soft-eyed, mousy-skinned 
Alderney cows slowly raising their heads to stare at him, munching the 
grass the while, and then coming to meet him, lowing softly. 

“ Ah, Dewnose ! Ah, Bessy,” he said, pulling the great fiapping ears 
of each in turn, and inhaling the puffs of warm, sweet-scented breath 
as he passed, the cows watching him for a few moments, and then, 
evidently thinking fresh de-wy grass preferable to the best of curates, 
they resumed their quiet “ crop crop ” of the verdant meal. 

The meadow crossed, another gate led back into the garden, where a 
long glass-house stood with open door inviting the Reverend Arthur 
to enter and breathe the warm, deliciously-scented air. The sun was 
shining brightly and came in a shower of rays upon the red-bricked 
fioor, broken up as it were by the silvery shoots of the vines whose 
leaves were fringed with drops of pearly dew. 

A glance at the leafy rocf displayed so much attention needed that 
the Reverend Archiir, after a little contemplation and a few moral com- 
parisons bctw'een the wild growth of tlie vine and that of the young 
and old of the parish, slowly took off his coat, lifted a heavy plank, 
and placed it across two of the iron rafter ties of the building; and 
after satisfying himself of its safety, mounted a pair of steps, climbing 
on to the plank and seating himself in a very unelerical attitude, he 
began to snap off the redundant branches of the vine. 


ONE OF HER VICTIMS. 


3 


“ Chimip ! ” went a shrill whistle as the first branch was snapped, 
but the Reverend Arthur heard it not, and in a rapt, dreamy manner 
went on snapping off at their joints branch after branch just beyond 
where the young bunches of grapes were beginning to show. 

“Chirrup!” went the whistle again, but still unheard, for the 
Reverend Arthur had just placed one of the succulent branches he had 
broken off between his lips, and, as if imitating the ways of Dewnose 
and Bessy, he was sedately munching away at the pleasant acid growth. 

“ Chirrup ! ” again, but this time in another direction, and, perfectly 
unconscious of the summons, the Reverend Arthur went on with his 
pruning, breakfasting the while off the tender acid shoots. 

Chirrup after chirrup mingled with the songs of the birds, and at 
last the bustling little figure of the lady lately seen at the Rectory 
window appeared at the door. 

“ AVhy, here you are, Arthur ! ” she exclaimed. “ What a shame it 
is ! You said you’d be down by the bees.” 

“I’m — I’m very sorry, my dear Mary,” said the guilty truant, with 
a look of appeal in his face. 

“That’s what you always say, sir , and here is the ham getting cold, 
the eggs will be quite hard, and I’ve got my feet soaking wet running 
all over the place.” 

“I really am very sorry, my dear Mary,” said the Reverend Arthur, 
slowly descending from his perch. 

“I never did see such a man,” cried the little lady, with her 
pleasant face a droll mixture of vexation and good-humour. 

As she spoke she took up the curate’s long coat, and held it ready for 
him to put on, tip-toeing. to enable him to thrust his long thin arms 
into the sleeves, and then tip-toeing a little more to reach up and give 
him a hearty kiss. 

“There, I won’t be very cross,” she cried, “only there never was 
such a thoughtless, tiresome man before. Just look at your hands ! ” 

“ It’s only vine-juice, my dear Mary,” he said, looking at his long thin 
fingers in turn. 

“Well, come along. You will have time to go and wash them while 
I change my shoes and stockings. Just look there.” 

Miss Mary Rosebury made no hesitation about drawing her gray cloth 
dress aside to display a very prettily-shaped pair of feet and ankles, 
soaked with dew and muddied by the garden paths, before taking her 
brother, as it were, into custody and leading him up to the house. 

Five minutes later they were in the prettily-furnished dining-room, 
before a most temptingly spread breakfast-table, where everything was 
clean and neat as the home of an old bachelor, tended by a maiden sister, 
might be expected to be. There were flowers and hand-painted screens ; 
the linen w’as snowy white,- and the eggs, and butter, and cream were 
as delicious as the coffee. 

The morning prayers w'ere read in presence of Cook and Jane; then 
the coffee was poured out in a dark amber stream, and for the first 
time the Reverend Arthur smiled. 

“Really, my dear Mary,” he said, “I don’t think any two people 
could be happier than we are.” 


4 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF, 


“ Than we should be if you would not do such foolish things, Arthur,” 
said the little lady, sharply. 

“ Foolish things, my dear ? ” he replied, rather blankly. 

“ Yes, foolish things. I don’t mind your being so fond of your 
garden and natural history, but it doesn’t look becoming for you to 
come back as you did yesterday, with a bunch of weeds in one hand, a 
bundle of mosses in the other, and your hat pinned all over with butter- 
flies. The people think you half mad.” 

“But I had no pill-boxes, my dear Mary, and Thompson of the 
Entomological, asked me to get him some of the large sulphurs.” 

“Then I wish Thompson, of the Entomological, woiild come down 
and catch his butterflies himself. Give me a bit more fat.” 

“For my part I should never wish to change.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” said the elderly lady, slowly, as she made a 
very hearty breakfast. “ Little Magnus is very nice and the garden very 
pretty, but there seems to be a something wanting. Tilt the dish and 
give me a little more of that gravy, Arthur. Why don’t you pass 
your cup ? ” 

“ And yet we have an abundance of the good things of this life, Mary, 
that we could not enjoy in a town.” 

“Ye-es,” said the little lady, dubiously; “but still there seems to 
be a something wanting.” 

“I think we shall have plenty of honey this year, my dear Maiy.” 

“ So we did last year, Arthur.” 

“ The mushrooms are coming on very fast in the pit. By the way, 
what did you do with those St. George’s agarics I brought home 
yesterday ? ” 

“Threw them away.” 

“My dear Mary ! ” 

“And the best thing too, Arthur. Now, once for all, mushrooms 
are mushrooms ; but I’m not going to have you poison yourself nor me 
neither with all kinds of toadstools, to gratify your love of experiment.” 

The curate sighed, and there came a pause, broken by Miss Mary 
Rosebury saying : 

“ Yes, I suppose we ought to be perfectly contented, and I think I 
am ; but sometimes it seems a pity that we should always go on like 
this without any change. Oh, here’s Brown.” 


CHAPTER n. 

A DANGEROUS VISITOR. 

Miss Mary Rosebury left her chair at the breakfast-table and hurried 
out to the rose-covered porch as a heavy step was heard upon the gravel ; 
and directly after a sturdy-looking man, with half a dozen leather bags 
slung from his shoulder, appeared at the door. 

“Fine morning, miss. Two letters — three letters — four letters. 


A DANGEROUS VISITOR. 


5 


‘Stnn’ard,’ ‘ Gar’ner’s Chronkle/ ‘ Beekeep’s Junnel ; ’ that’s all miss ; ” 
and before the little lady had had time to speak, the heavy step was 
receding over the gravel. 

“ Four letters for you, Arthur. Shall I open them ? ” 

“Please, my dear Mary,” said the Reverend Arthur, without 
evincing the slightest interest in the arrival of the post, for he was 
carefully filling up the holes in some well-made dry toast with the 
freshest of fresh butter. 

Miss Mary Rosebury laid the letters upon the table while she fished a 
spectacle-case from her pocket, balanced her glasses upon her rather 
decided-looking nose, gave the two little bunches of curls on either side 
of her white forehead a shake, and opened the first letter, reading 
aloud : 

“ ‘ Messrs. Spindle and Twist beg to call your attention to a very 

curious sherry, and’ — um — um — um — um Ah ! you don’t want to 

lay down sherry, do you, Arthur ? ” 

“ No, my dear Mary,” said her brother; and letter number two was 
opened. 

“ ‘ Mr. Hazelton is now prepared to make advances upon personal 

security to the clergy; gentry ’ Bah ! money-lenders ! ” exclaimed 

Miss Mary Rosebury, throwing’aside the second letter. “I wish these 
people wouldn’t bore us with their applications. What’s this ? ” 

As she spoke she took up a large blue official-looking envelope. 

“ Looks important, my dear Mary,” said the Rev. ^thur, displaying 
a little more interest. 

“ Yes,” said his sister, turning the letter over. “ Oh, Arthur, 
suppose it means preferment at last — a vicarage somewhere.” 

“I don’t think I should bo very much pleased, my dear Mary. 1 am 
very happy here.” 

“ Oh, yes, of course we are, Arthur ; but as I have often said, there 
does seem to a something wanting, and — — ‘ The directors of the New 

Pol wheedle and Verity iriendship Tin Mining ’ Oh, dear, dear, 

just as if we had money to throw down Cornish mines. What’s this ? 
I don’t know this hand. There’s a crest upon the envelope, and ‘ H. B.’ 
in the corner. Oh ! it’s from Dr. Bolter.” 

“ Postmark Penang ? ” said the Reverend Arthur. “ Wondered I had 
not heard from him.” 

“No; it’s from London. Lot me see. All about specimens, I 
suppose. 

“ ‘ My Dear Rosebury, 

“ ‘ I’m in England for a month or two, and am coming down 
to see you, and chat over old times. Don’t make any fuss, old fellow I 
Bed on a sofa will do for an old campaigner like me. I’ve got business 
your way — to see some young ladies at Mayleyfield — daughters of two 
people out in the Peninsula. Been educated at home, and I’m going to 
be their escort back. Nuisance, but must do it ; expect me to-morrow. 

“ ‘ Yours very truly, 

“ ‘Harry Bolter.’ 


“ * The Reverend Arthur Rosebury.’ 


6 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


•• Why, Arthur, he’s coming here ! ” 

“ Yes, my dear. I’m very glad ! ” 

“ But to-day, Arthur ! What shall I do ? ” 

“ Do, my dear Mary ? Nothing ! Bolter never wants anything done 
for him, unless he’s very much altered, and I don’t think he will be.” 

“ But the young ladies at Mayleyfield ? Why, that must be at Miss 
Twettenham’s establishment ! ” 

“ Very probably, my dear! ” said the Eeverend Arthur, getting up 
to walk up and down the room. “I shall be very, very glad to 
see Harry Bolter. I wonder whether he has brought any speci- 
mens ? ” 

“To be sure, I’ve heard that the Misses Twettenham have several 
young ladies there whose parents are in India.” 

“Not India,' my dear. Harry Bolter has been in the Malay 
Peninsula. He was at Singapore and then at Penang.” 

“And the house in such a terrible muddle ! ” exclaimed Miss Mary. 
“ What ever shall I do ? ” 

“ What a little world this is,” said the Eeverend Arthur. “ H»w 
strange that Henry Bolter should, so to speak, have friends as near as 
Mayleyfield ! ” 

“ Oh, Arthur, Arthur, you really have no thought whatever I To- 
day is baking day I ” 

“ I am very glad, my dear Mary ! Henry Bolter was always, I 
remember, fond of new bread. We used to call him Hot-roll Bolter at 
college.” 

“ Arthur ! ” 

“ Yes, my dear Mary ! ” 

“I really am thankful that you never married! You would have 
worried any reasonable woman into her grave ! ” 

“ I am very sorry. I hope not, my dear Mary! I think if I had 
ever seen any lady I should have liked to call my wife, my whole study 
■would have been to make her happy ! ” 

“ Yes, yes, my dear Arthur ! ” said the little petulant lady, placing 
her hands upon her tall, thin brother’s shoulders once more to pull him 
down to be kissed, “ I know you would; but you are so tiresome.” 

*‘I’m — I’m afraid I am, my dear Mary. I think sometimes that I 
must be very stupid.” 

“Nonsense, Arthur; you are not. You are one of the best and 
cleverest of men ; but you do get so lost in ^mur studios that you forget 
all ordinary troubles of life. AVhy, there, actually you have come down 
this morning without any shirt collar.” 

“ Have I ? Have I, Mary ? ” said the Eeverend Arthur, looking hastily 
in a glass. “ How very foolish of me ! I was anxious to get down, 1 
suppose.” 

“ What we are to do for dinner I don’t know ! ” exclaimed Miss Mary. 
“ The butcher won’t kill till the day after to-morrow.” 

“ Chickens,” suggested her brother. 

“ You can’t feed men always on chickens, Arthur.” 

“No, no, my dear; but Henry Bolter has been a great deal in the 
East ; and you might do a deal with chickens.” 


A DANGEROUS VISITOR. 


7 


“ Oh, I know, Arthur,” said the little lady, pettishly. “ Roast and 
boiled.” 

“ And curried ! Bolter is sure to like curry.” 

“ And then grumble at it, and say it is not as good as he gets abroad 
You never have anything in the garden either ! ” 

“ I have some very fine asparagus, my dear Mary,” 

“Ah, well, that’s something.” 

“ And some forced rhubarb.” 

“ I could use that too. But really it is too bad to take one so by 
surprise. Men are so unreasonable ! ” 

The Reverend Arthur Rosebury took a turn or two up and down the 
room, with a troubled look in his face, ending by stopping short before 
his sister. 

“ I — I am very sorry, my dear Mary,” he said. “ Can I help you a 
little?” 

“What, by getting in the way, Arthur?” said the little lady, 
pettishly. “ Nonsense ! stuff ! ” 

He smoothed his long, thin, closely-shaven face with one hand, gazing 
pensively at his sister. 

“I — I used to be very fond of Henry Bolter,” he said, in a hesitat- 
ing way. 

“Why?” she said, sharply. “I don’t believe in these very warm 
friendships between men ! ” 

“ It wes when our father died, Mary, more than twenty years ago ; 
and for want of a hundred pounds I thought I should have to leave col- 
lege.” 

“Yes ? ” said the little lady, sharply. 

“ Henry Bolter found it out, and he forced the money into my hand.” 

“He did?” 

“ Yes, my dear Mary, and he never would let me pay it back again.” 

“ But didn’t you try, Arthur ? ” 

“Four times over, my dear Mary; but he always sent the money 
back to me in a letter with only one word in it.” 

‘ ‘ And what was that ? ” 

There was a dry, half-pitiful smile in the Reverend Arthur’s face as 
he replied, gazing fixedly the while at his sister: 

“‘Beast!’” 

“ What, Arthur? ” 

“ He said ‘ beast.’ He met me afterwards, and vowed he would never 
speak to me again if I alluded to the money, which he said was a gift ; 
and it has never been repaid to this day.” 

“ Beast ! ” ejaculated Miss Mary, thoughtfully, 

“Yes, my dear Mary, but I have that sum put away, ready for him 
to take when he will.” 

“ Of course,” said Miss Rosebury, thoughtfully. 

“ And I should like to give Harry Bolter a warm welcome when he 
comes, Mary ; not a welcome of corn and wine, oil, olive and honey, 
Mary — but a welcome from the heart, such as would please him more.” 

“ My dear Arthur,” cried the little lady, throwing her arras round 
her brother’s lank, spare form, “ you mustn’t notice my crotchety ways. 


8 


ONE-MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


I’m getting an old woman — a fidgety old maid. Dr. Bolter shall have 
as warm a welcome as I can give.” 

“ I knew it, sister,” he said, tenderly embracing her ; and it was very 
foolish, but the eyes of both were wet with tears as the little lady 
snatched herself away. 

“ There, Arthur, now go, and don’t you come near me again except 
to bring me the asparagus and rhubarb, for I shall be as busy as a bee. 
There’s the doctor’s room to prepare.” 

“ No ; let him have mine.” 

“ What, with all that litter of dried plants and flies ? ” 

“ Just what he would like.” 

“ There, go away.” 

The Reverend Arthur Kosebury was about to say something more, 
but his sister checked him, and in a thoughtful, dreamy way, he went 
slowly out into the garden, where at the end of ten minutes he had for- 
gotten rhubarb, asparagus, even the «>oming of Dr. Bolter, for the sun 
had shone out very hot, and the bees in the foiulh hive beginning from 
the top were threatening to swarm. 


CHAPTER ni. 

THE YOUNG LADIES. 

“ The Firlaw’ns, Mayleyfield, educational establishment for the daughters 
of officers and gentlemen in the Indian civil service, conducted by the 
Misses Twettenham,” as it said in the old circulars, for none w'ere ever 
issued now. Thirty years of the care of young people, committed to 
their charge by parents compelled to reside in the East, had placed the 
Misses Twettenham beyond the need of circular or other advertising 
advocate. For it was considered a stroke of good fortune by Indian 
and other officials if vacancies could be found at the Firlawns for their 
daughters ; in fact, the Misses Twettenham might have doubled their 
numbers and their prices too, but they were content to keep on in their 
old conservative way, enjojdng the confidence of their patrons, and 
really acting the parts of mothers to the young ladies committed to their 
charge. 

It w^as a difficult task as well as an onerous one, this care of girls from 
the ages of ten or twelve up to even tw’enty and one-and-twenty, 
especially when it is taken into considei*ation that, whatever the 
emergency, the parents would be in India, China, or the Eastern islands 
—one or two months’ distance by letter, sometimes more. 

It was not often that there were troubles, though, at the Firlawns, 
for the Misses Twettenham ’s was a kindly as well as rigid rule. Sick- 
ness of course there was from time to time. Sadder still, they had had 
deaths; but there were times when some young lady of more than 
ordinary volatility would try to assert herself and resent the bonds that 
the elderly sisters insisted upon tying round her and keeping her back. 

There were occasionally handsome curates at Mayleyfield. There was 


THE YOUNa LADIES. 


9 


a particularly good-looking young doctor’s assistant once in the town ; 
and at times Squire Morden’s soldier and sailor sons would return home 
for a short stay, when a misguided pupil would form a most hopeless 
attachment, and even go so far as to receive a smuggled note. 

Woe be to her if she did! It was sure to be discovered; and if such 
a course was persisted in the doom was certain. Transportation was 
the sentence. Word was sent to mamma and papa in India, China, or 
wherever they might be, and Miss Rebellious had to leave the school. 

These were very, very rare cases, for there was scarcely a girl who 
did not look upon the elderly sisters as their best of friends ; but such 
accidents had occurred, and there was trouble at the Firlawns now. 

“ Never,” said Miss Twettenham to her sisters twain — “ never, my 
dear Julia — never, my dear Maria, in the whole course of my experience, 
have I met with so determined, so obstinate a girl ! ” 

“ She is very beautiful,” said Miss Julia. 

“ And it promises to be a fatal gift,” said Miss Maria, 

“ Yes,” said the eldest Miss Twettenham ; “ and if it were not for 
the letter we have received saying that Dr. Bolter was coming to fetch 
her away, I shoxild certainly have been compelled to insist upon her 
being recalled.” 

“ I don’t think she means harm, dear Hannah,” said Miss Maria. 

“ No young lady brought up here could mean harm, Maria,” said 
Miss Tw'ttenham, severely ; “ but to witness in her such a terrible dis- 
play of — of — of I really cannot find a word.” 

“ Coquetry,” suggested Miss Julia. 

“ Well, coquetry, ’’-said Miss Twettenham, taking the word unwill- 
ingly, as if it were too bad to touch. “ It is a terrible love of admir- 
ation ! ” 

“ What did she say, Hannah, when you spoke to her ? ” 

“ Laughed, my dear, in the most barefaced way, and said that it was 
all nonsense.” 

“ But that dreadful half-haughty, half-shy way in which she looked 
at him I ” said Miss Maria. 

“And she almost smiled,” said Miss Julia. 

“Quite smiled!” said Miss Twettenham, severely. “I saw her 
smile at him ; and then, when he lifted his hat, she raised her eyes and 
stared at him in a haughty, astonished way, as if she had never given 
him the slightest encouragement.” 

“ It is very shocking,” murmured Miss Maria. 

“ But I think she blushed a little,” remonstrated Miss Julia, as if to 
try and find some slight extenuating circumstance for the benefit of the 
most handsome pupil at the Firlawns. 

“That I deny!” exclaimed Miss Twettenham. “It was only the 
reflection from the lining of her sunshade ! I repeat it, sisters ; I am 
very — very glad she is going away ! ” 

“ So am I,” said Miss Julia ; “ and yet I am sorry, for she is a very 
beautiful girl, and I am sure she is affectionate.” 

“ What is beauty without ballast, my dear Julia ? or affection that 
goes floating about like a gossamer without a stay ? ” said Miss Twet- 
tenham, severely, and her sisters sighed. 


10 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ I consider it most reprehensible. And now I think we will have 
her down.” 

The three gray, elderly ladies seated themselves in three stiff-backed, 
uneasy cliairs, wool-worked by former pupils ; and as soon as they had 
settled themselves in severe attitudes, Miss Twettenham gave a long- 
wool-worked bell-pull a decided tug. 

The bell was answered by a quiet, -elderly man-servant in a neat 
livery. 

“ Send word to Fraulein Webling’s room that we wish to see Miss 
Ferowne and Miss Stuart,” said Miss Twettenham ; and after sitting in 
frigid silence for a few minutes, the two young ladies were ushei’ed 
into the presence of the principals. 

There was a marked contrast between the giils, one being tall, with 
a finely-shaped oval face, dark hair, and peculiarly lustrous eyes, 
fringed by long black lashes ; the other decidedly 'petite, wdth the clear 
skin, blue-gray eyes, and fair hair suggestive of the North. 

The dark girl was perfectly composed, and walked over the well- 
worn carpet with an easy, graceful carriage, and a look of languid in- 
difference, far from being shared by her companion, whose cheeks W'ero 
flushed as she darted an uneasy look at the three sisters in turn. 

The young ladies evidently expected to bo asked to take chairs, but 
the words were not forthcoming ; and after advancing a few paces, they 
stopped short in the midst of a chilling silence, the three sisters sitting 
very upright with mittened hands crossed in a peculiar way about the 
region of the waist of their old-fashioned dresses. 

The dark girl, after a languid glance round, gave her shapely 
shoulders a slight shrug before half closing her ej’es, and gazing 
through the tall, blank window at a scaly araucaria upon the lawn. 

At last Miss Twettenham spoke : 

“ Miss Stuart,” she began, in chilling tones and with great delibera- 
tion, “ speaking for myself and sisters, I must say that I sadly regret 
that we are under the necessity of drawing you into the discussion that 
is about to take place.” 

“ But, at the same time, my dear,” continued Miss Julia, in precisely 
the same formal tone, “ w^e wish to tell ^mu that we exonerate you from 
all blame in the matter.” 

“ And,” concluded Miss Maria, “ we are glad to say that your conduct 
since you have been under our care has been all that could be desired.” 

The fair girl made a half step forward, her eyes filling with tears, 
and one hand was involuntarily raised, as if she would have liked to 
place it in that of the last speaker; but the three sisters drew them- 
selves up a little more rigidly, and, as if in concert, drew in a long 
breath. 

The dark girl smiled faintly and looked bored. 

“It is an unpleasant thing for you to do. Miss Stuart, to have to 
bear witness against your schoolfellow and companion,” resumed Miss 
Twettenham, her sisters tightening their lips as if to rigidly keep in 
the indignation they felt, and to subdue their desire to interrupt their 
elder, who, by right of seniority, was the principal spokeswoman upon 
such occasions. 


THE YOUNG LADIES 


11 


The dark girl raised her eyebrows slightly, and the corners of her 
well-shaped mouth twitched, and were drawn down in a provokingly 
attractive manner. 

“ Will you kindly inform me, Miss Twettenham,” she said, in a low 
sweet voice, full of hauteiir, “ why I am to bo subjected to this exami- 
nation ? Of what am 1 accused ? ” 

“ Why, you know ! ” exclaimed Miss Maria, excitedly. “ Of smiling 
at a man, miss ! ” and she seemed to shudder with indignant protest. 

“My dear Maria,” exclaimed Miss Twettenham, severely, “you 
forget.” 

“I beg your pardon, my dear Hannah!” exclaimed the younger 
sister, and she drew herself up and tightened her lips more and more. 

“ I had intended to have approached the subject with more de 

I mean caution,” continued Miss Twettenham; “but since my sister 
has spoken out so plainly, I will only say that your conduct yesterday, 
Miss Perowne, places me under the necessity of confining your future 
walks to the garden.” 

“ My conduct? ” said the girl, turning her dark eyes full upon the 
speaker. 

“ Your conduct. Miss Helen Perowne,” said the elder lady austerely. 
“ It has for months past been far from in accordance with that we ex- 
pect from the young ladies placed by their parents in our charge ; but 
yesterday it culminated in the smile and look of intelligence we saw 
pass between you and that tall, fair gentleman who has of late haunted 
the outskirts of this place. I think I have your approval in what I 
say ? she added, turning to her sisters, who both bow'ed stiffly and 
became more rigid than before. 

“Such conduct is worse than unbecoming. It is unladylike to a 
degree, and what is more, displays so great a want of womanly dignity 
and self-respect that I am reluctantly compelled to say that we feel 
our endeavours to instil a right moral tone and thoroughly decorous 
idea of a young Lady’s duties to have been thrown away.” 

There was a slight twitching of the corners of the mouth and an 
involuntary shrugging of the shoulders here. 

“ You are aware, Miss Perowne, that your papa has requested us to 
resign you to the care of his friend Dr. Bolter, and that m a short 
time you will cease to be our pupil ; but still, while you stay at the 
Firlawns, we must exact a rigid obedience to our rules, and, as I have 
said, your liberty must be sadly curtailed while you are in our charge.” 

“ As you please,” said the girl, indifferently. 

“You do not deny your fault, then ? ” 

“ No,” said the girl, without turning her eyes from the window. 

“ Who was this gentleman — I should say, who is this gentleman ? ” 

“I really do not know,” said the girl, turning from the window now 
with a careless look in her eyes, as if of wonder that she should be 
asked such a question. 

“ Have you had any epistolary communication ? ” said Miss Twetten- 
ham, sternly. 

“ Not the slightest,” said the girl, coldly; and then she added, after 
a pause, “If I had I should not have told you ! ” 


12 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“Miss Perowne!” exclaimed the eldest Miss Twettenham, indig- 
nantly. 

“Miss Twettenham/' exclaimed the girl, drawing herself up, and 
with a flash from her dark eyes full of defiance, “ you forget that I am 
no longer a child. It has suited my father’s purpose to have me de- 
tained here amongst school-children until he found a suitable escort for 
my return to the East ; but Pam a woman. As to that absurd episode, 
it is beneath my notice.” 

“ Beneath your notice ! ” exclaimed Miss Twettenham, while her sis- 
ters looked astounded. 

The fair girl laid her hand upon her companion’s arm, but Helen 
Perowne snatched hers away. 

“I say beneath my notice. A foolish young man thinks proper to 
stare at me and raises his hat probably at the whole school.” 

“At you. Miss Helen Perowne — at you!” exclaimed Miss Twet- 
tenham. 

“ Possibly,” said the girl, carelessly, as the flash died out of her eyes, 
her lids drooped, and she let her gaze wander to the window. 

“I can scarcely tell you how grieved — how hurt we feel,” continued 
Miss Twettenham, “ to And that a young lady who has for so many 
years enjoyed the — the care, the instruction, the direction of our 
establishment, should have set so terrible an example to her fellow- 
pupils.” 

The girl shrugged her shoulders again slightly, and her face assumed 
a more indifferent air. 

“ The time that you have to stay here. Miss Perowne, is very short,” 
continued the speaker ; *• but while you do stay it will be under rigid 
supervision. You may now retire to your room.” 

The girl turned away, and w'as walking straight out of the room, but 
years of lessons in deportment asserted themselves, and from sheer 
habit she turned by the door to make a stately courtesy, frowning and 
biting her lip directly after as if from annoyance, and passing out with 
the grace and proud carriage of an Eastern queen. 

“Stop, Miss Stuart,” said Miss Twettenham, as Helen Perowne’s 
companion was about to follow. “ I wish to say a few words to you 
befoi’e you go — not words of anger, my dear child, for the only pain 
we have suffered through you is in hearing the news that you are so 
soon to go.” 

“Oh, Miss Twettenham,” exclaimed the girl, hurrying to take the 
extended hands of the schoolmistress, but to find herself pressed to the 
old lady’s heart, an embrace which she received in turn from Miss Julia 
and Miss Maria. 

“ Wo have long felt that it must soon come, my dear,” chirped Miss 
Maria. 

“Yes, dear,” said Miss Julia, in a prattling way. “You’ve done 
scolding now, sister, have you not ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Twettenham; “but I wish to speak seriously for 
a minute or two, and the present seems a favourable opportunity for 
Gray Stuart to hear. 

The younger sisters placed the fair young girl in a chair between 


THE YOUNG LADIES. 


13 


them, and each held a hand, while Miss Twettenham drew herself up 
stiffly, hemmed twice, and began : 

“ My dear Miss Stuart--! — I Oh, dear me ! Oh, dear me ! ” 

The poor old lady burst into a violent fit of sobbing as she rose from 
her seat, for nature was stronger than the stiff varnish of art with 
which she was encrusted ; and holding her handkerchief to her eyes, 
she crossed the little space between them, and sank down upon her 
knees before Gray Stuart, passing her arms round her and drawing her 
to her breast. 

Eor a few minutes nothing was heard in the stiff old-fashioned draw- 
ing-room but suppressed sobs, for the younger sisters wept in concert, 
and the moist contagion extended to Gray Stuart, whose tears fell fast. 

There was no buckram stiffness in Miss Twettenham’s words when 
she spoke again, but a very tender, affectionate shake in her voice. 

“It is very weak and foolish, my dear,” she said, “but we were 
all very much upset; for there is something so shocking in seeing 
one so young and beautiful as Helen Perowne deliberately defy the 
best of advice, and persist in going on in her own wilful way. We 
are schoolmistresses, my dear Gray, and I know we are very formal 
and stiff ; but though we have never been married ladies to have little 
children of our own, I am sure we have grown to love those placed 
in our care, so that often and often, when some pupil has been taken 
away to go to those far-off burning lands, it has been to us like losing 
a child.” 

“ Yes — yes,” sobbed the younger sisters in concert. 

“ And now, my dear Gray, I think I can speak a little more 
firmly. You are a woman grown now, my dear, and I hope feel with 
us in our trouble.” 

“Indeed — indeed I do ! ” exclaimed Gray, eagerly. 

“ I know you do, my darling, so now listen. You know how sweet 
a jewel is a woman’s modesty, and now great a safeguard is her in- 
nocency ? I need say little to you of yourself, now that you are going 
far across the sea ; but we, my sisters and I, pray earnestly for your 
help in trying to exercise some infiuence over Helen’s future. You 
will be together, and I know what your example will be ; but still I 
shudder as I think of what her future is to be, out there at some station 
where ladies are so few that they all get married as soon as they go 
out.” 

This was rather an incongruous ending to Miss Twettenham’s speech, 
but the old lady’s eyes bespoke her trouble, and she went on : 

“ It seems to me, my dear, that, with her love of admiration, she will 
be like a firebrand in the camp, and I shudder when I think of what 
Mr. Perowne will say, when I’m sure, sisters, we have striven our very 
best.” 

“Indeed, indeed we have.” 

“Then we can do no more,” sighed Miss Twettenham, who now 
smiled in a very pleasant, motherly way. “ There, Gray, my dear, I am 
not going to cross-examine you about this naughty child, and we will say 
no more now. Some tender young plants grow as they are trained, and 
some persist in growing wild, I tremble for our handsome pupil, and 


14 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


shall often wonder in the future how she fares, but promise me that 
you will be to her the best of friends.” 

“ Indeed I will,” said Gray, e.arnestly. 

“It will be a thankless office,” said Miss Julia. 

“ And cause you many a heartache. Gray Stuart,’’ said Miss Maria. 

“ Yes, but Gray Stuart will not pay heed to that when she knows it 
is her duty,” said Miss Twettenham, smiling. “Leave us now, my 
dear; we must have a quiet talk about Helen, and our arrangements 
while she stays. Good-%e, my child.” 

The good-bye on the old lady’s lips was a genuine God be with you, 
and an affectionate kiss touched Gray Stuart’s cheek, as she left the 
room, fluttered and in trouble about her school-fellow, as the pro- 
phetic words of her teachers kept repeating themselves in her ears. 


CHAPTER IV. 

DR. bolter’s question • 

“Dr. Bolter, ma’am,” said the elderly man-servant, seeking Miss 
Twettenham the next afternoon, as she wms sunning herself in a 
favourite corner of the garden, where a large heavily-backed rustic seat 
stood against the red-brick wall. 

The pupils were out walking with her two sisters — all save Helen 
Perowne and Gray Stuart, who were prisoners ; and Miss Twettenham 
was just wondering how it was that a little tuft of green, velvety moss 
should have fallen from the wall upon her cap, when the old serving- 
man, came up. 

“ Dr. Bolter ! Dear me ! So soon ! ” exclaimed the old lady, glanc- 
ing at Helen Perow'ne, book in hand, walking up and down the lawn, 
while Gray Stuart was at some little distance, tying up the blossoms of 
a flower. 

Miss Twettenham entered the drawing-room, and then stood gazing 
in wonder at the little plump, brisk-looking man, with a rosy face, in 
spite of the deep bronze to which it was burned by exposure to the suu 
and air. 

Ho was evidently about seven or eight and forty, but full of life and 
energy ; a couple of clear gray eyes looking out from beneath a pair of 
rather shaggy eyebrows — for his face was better supplied with hirsute 
appendages than his head — a large portion of which was very white 
and smooth, seeming to be polished to the highest pitch, and contrasting 
strangely with his sunbrowned face. 

As Miss Twettenham entered, the little doctor was going on tiptoe, 
with open hands, towards the window, where he dexterously caught 
a large fly, and after placing it conveniently between the finger and 
thumb of his left hand, ho drew a lens from his waistcoat pocket, and 
began examining his prize. 

“ Hum ! Yes,” he said, in a low, thoughtful tone, “ decided similar- 
ity in the trunk. Eyes rather larger. Intersection of I beg your 

pardon ! Miss Twettenham ? ” 


DR. BOLTER’S QUESTION. 


If) 


The Lady bowed, and looked rather dignified. Catching flies and 
examining them in her drawdng-room by means of a lens was an 
nnusual proceeding, especially when there were so many much worthier 
objects for examination in the shape of pupils’ drawings and needlework 
about the place. 

Miss Twettenham softened, though,. directly, for the manners of Dr. 
Bolter were, she owned, perfect. Nothing could have been more gentle- 
manly than the way in which he waited for her to be seated, and then, 
after a chatty introduction, came to the object of his visit. 

“ You see, my dear madam, it happens so opportunely my being in 
England. Perowne and Stuart are both old friends and patients, and 
of course they did not like the idea of their daughters being entrusted 
to comparative strangers.” 

“So you will be friend, guardian and medical attendant all in one ? ” 
said Miss Twettenham, smiling. 

“ Exactly,” said the little doctor. “ I have never seen them ; they 
are quite schoolgirls — children, I suppose ? ” 

“ Ye— es,” said Miss Twettenham, who had a habit of measuring a 
young lady’s age by its distance from her own, “ they are very 
young.” 

“ No joke of a task, my dear madam, undertaking the charge of two 
young ladies — and I hope from my heart they are too young and plain 
to be attractive — make it difficult for Hie.” 

There was a bright red spot on each of Miss Twettenham’s cheeks, 
and she replied, with a little hesitation : 

“ They are both young, and you will find in Miss Stuart a young 
lady of great sweetness and promise. ” 

“ Glad to hear it, my dear madam. Her father is a very dry Scot, 
very quaint and parsimonious, but a good fellow at heart.” 

“Most punctual in his payments,” said Miss Twettenham, with 
dignity. 

“Oh, of course, of course!” said Dr. Bolter. “More so. I’ll be 
bound, than Perowne.” 

“ Mr. Perowne is not so observant of dates as Mr, Stuart, I must own, 
Dr. Bolter,” said Miss Twettenham. 

“No, my dear madam ; but he is rich as a Jew. Very good fellow 
Perowne I ” 

Miss Twettenham bowed rather stiffly. 

“ Well, my dear madam, I am not going to rob you of your pupils 
for several weeks yet, but I should like to make their acquaintance and 
get them a little used to me before we start upon our long voyage.” 

“They are in the garden, Dr. Bolter,” said Miss Twettenham, 
rising. “I will have them sent for~or would you ” 

“ Like to join them in the garden ? Most happy ! ” 

Miss Twettenham led the way towards a handsome conservatory, 
through which there was a flight of steps descending to the lawn.^ 

“ Dear me ! ah, yes ! ” exclaimed the doctor. “ Very nice display 
of flowers I Would you allow me ? My own collections in the jungle 
— passiflora — convolvulacise — acacia. ” 

He drew some dry seeds from his pocket, and placed them in the old 

2 


16 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


lady’s hand, she taking them with a smile and a bow ; after which they 
descended to the soft, velvety, well-kept lawn. 

“ Most charming garden ! ” — said the doctor — “ quite a little paradise I 
but no Eves — no young ladies ! ” 

“ They are all taking their afternoon walk except Miss Stuart and 
Miss Perowne,” replied the old lady. “ Oh ! ” 

She uttered a sharp ejaculation as a stone struck her upon the collar- 
bone and then fell at the doctor’s feet, that gentleman picking it up 
with one hand as he adjusted his double eyeglass with the other. 

“Hum ! ha ! ” he said drily. “ We get our post very irregularly out 
in the East ; but they don’t throw the letters at us over the wall.” 

Miss Twettenham’s hands trembled as she hastily snatched the stone, 
to which a closely-folded note was attached by an india-rubber band, 
from the doctor’s hands. 

“What will he think of our establishment?” mentally exclaimed 
the poor little old lady, as she glanced at the superscription, and saw 
that it was for Helen Perowne. “ I have never had such a thing occur 
since Miss Bainbridge was sent away.” 

“ So Miss Perowne receives notes thrown to her over the garden wall, 
eh ? ” said the little doctor, severely. 

“ Indeed, Dr. Bolter — I assure you — I am shocked — I hardly know 
— the young ladies have been kept in — I only discovered ” 

“Hum ! ” ejaculated the doctor, frowning. “ I am rather surprised. 
Let me see,” he continued. “ I suppose that fair-haired girl stooping 
over the flower-bed yonder is Miss Perowne, eh ? ” 

“ My sight is failing,” stammered Miss Twettenhara, who was ter- 
ribly agitated at the untoward incident ; “ but your description answers 
to Miss Stuart.” 

“ And that’s Miss Stuart is it ? Hum ! Too far off to see what she 
is like. Then I suppose that tall dark girl on the seat is Miss 
Perowne ? ” 

“Tall and dark — yes,” said Miss Twettenham, in an agitated way, 
“ Is she sitting down ? You said tall ? ” 

“Hum ! no,” said the doctor, balancing his glasses ; “ she is standing 
right on the top of the back of a seat, and seems to be looking over the 
garden wall.” 

“Oh!” 

“ Bless my heart ! Hum! Sham or real ?” muttered the doctor. 

Beal enough, for the agitation had been too much for the poor old 
lady, so proud of the reputation of her school. A note over the 
garden wall — a young lady looking over into the lane, perhaps in con- 
versation with a man, and just when a stranger had arrived to act as 
escort for two finished pupils ! It was too much. 

For the first time for many years Miss Twettenham had fainted 

away. 


A VERY NICE LITTLE WOMAN. 


17 


CHAPTER V. 

A VEUY NICE LITTLE WOMAN. 

“Fainted dead away, Arthur; fainted dead away, Miss Rosebury; 
and until I shouted aloud there was niy fair pussy peeping out of para- 
dise over the wall to see if a young Adam was coming. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

“ I am very much surprised. Dr. Bolter,” said Miss Rosebury, 
severely ; “ I always thought the Miss Twettenham’s was a most strictly- 
conducted establishment ? ” 

“ So it is, my dear madam — so it is ; but they’ve got one little black 
ewe lamb in the flock, and the old ladies told me that if my young lady 
had not been about to leave they’d have sent her away.” 

“ And very properly,” said Miss Rosebury, tightening her lips and 
slightly agitating her curls. 

“ And did the lady soon come to, Harry ? ” said the Reverend Arthur 
Rosebury, for he seemed to be much interested in his friend’s discourse 
over the dessert. 

“ Oh, yes, very soon. When I shouted, the dark nymph hopped off 
the garden-seat, and the fair one came running from the flowers, and 
we soon brought her to. Then I had a good look at the girls.” 

Miss Rosebury’s rather pleasantly-shaped mouth was fast beginning 
to assume the form of a thin red .line, so tightly were her lips com- 
pressed. 

“ By George, sir ! what a girl! A graceful Juno, sir; the hand- 
somest woman I ever saw. I was staggered. Bless my soul. Miss 
Rosebury, here’s Perowne and here’s Stuart ; they say to me, ‘ You may 
as well take charge of my girl and see her safe back here,’ and being a 
good-natured sort of fellow’- ” 

“As you always were, Harry,” said the Reverend Arthur, beaming 
mildly upon his friend, while Miss Rosebury’s lips relaxed a little. 

“All rubbish! Stuff, man! Well, I said yes, of course, and I 
imagined a couple of strips of schoolgirls that I could chat to, and tell 
them about the sea, and tie on their pinafores before breakfast and 
dinner, and give them a dose of medicine once a week ; w'hile here 1 
am dropped in for being guardian to a couple of beautiful women — 
girls who will set our jungles on fire with their eyes, sir. By George, 
it’s a startler, sir, and no mistake ! ” 

“Dr. Bolter seems to be an admirer of female beauty,” said Miss 
Rosebury, rather drily. 

“Not a bit of it, madam. By George, no! Ladies? Why, they 
have always seemed to be studies to me — objects of natural history. 
Very beautiful from their construction, and I shouldn’t have noticed 
these two only that, by George ! I’ve got to take charge of them— de- 
liver them safe and sound to their papas — with care — this side up ; and 
the first thing I find is that they’ve got eyes that will drive our young 
fellows -w'ild, and one of them — the peep out of paradise one — knows it 
too. Nice job for a quiet old bachelor, eh ? ” 

“ You don’t tell us anything about yourself, Harry,” said the 


18 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Eeverend Arthur; and Miss Kosebury seemed a little more at her 
ease. 

“Nothing to tell you, my boy. Claret? Yes, thanks. Have you 
such a thing as a lemon. Miss Eosebury ? ” 

Miss Eosebury had, and as she rang she smiled with satisfaction at 
being able to supply the wants of the bright little man who had been 
so true a friend to her brother in the days gone by. 

“Thank you, Miss Eosebury. Tumbler — water. Thanks. The 
lemon is, I think, the king of fruits, and invaluable to man. De- 
liciously acid, a marvellous quencher of thirst, a corrective, highly 
aromatic, a perfect boon. I would leave all the finest wines in the 
world for a lemon.” 

“ Then you believe all intoxicating drinks to be bad, doctor? ” said 
Miss Eosebury, eagerly. 

“ Except whiskey, my dear madam,” said the doctor, with a twinkle 
of the eye. 

“ Ah ! ” said Miss Eosebury, and the eager smile upon her lips faded ; 
but as she saw the zest with which the doctor rolled the lemon soft, 
and after cutting it in half, squeezed the juice and pulp into his glass, 
she relaxed a little, and directly afterwards began to beam, as the 
doctor suddenly exclaimed : 

“There, madam, smell my hands! There’s scent ! Talk of eau-de- 
cologne, and millefleurs, and jockey club I Nothing to it ! But come 
Arthur, you don’t tell me about yourself.” 

“ About myself,” said the Eeverend Arthur, smiling blandly; “I 
have nothing to tell. You have seen my village ; you have looked at 
my church ; you have been through my garden ; and you have had a 
rummage in my study. There is my life.” 

“ A blessed one — a happy one, my dear Arthur. A perfect little 
home, presided over by a lady whose presence shows itself at every 
turn. Miss Eosebury,” said the doctor, rising, “ when I think of my 
own vagabond life, journeying here and there with my regiment through 
heat and cold, in civilization and out, and after many wanderings, 
come back to this peaceful spot, this little haven of rest, I see what a 
happy man my old friend must be, and I envy him with all my heart.” 

He reseated himself, and Miss Eosebury’s lips ceased to be com- 
pressed into a tight line ; and as she smiled and nodded pleasantly, she 
glanced across at her brother, to see if he would speak, before replying 
that, pleasant as their home was, they had their troubles in the parish. 

“ And I have no end of trouble with Arthur,” she continued. “ He 
is so terribly forgetful I ” 

“ He always was, my dear madam,” said the little doctor. “ If you 
wanted him to keep an appointment in the old college days you had to 
write it down upon eight pieces of paper, and place one in each of his 
sockets, and pin the eighth in his hat. Then you might, perhaps, see 
him at the appointed time.” 

“ Oh, no, no, Harry ! too bad— too bad ! ” murmured the Eeverend 
Arthur, smiling and shaking his head. 

“ Well, really, Arthur,” said his sister, “ I don’t think there is much 
exaggeration in what Dr. Bolter says.” 


A VERY NICE LITTLE WOMAN. 


19 


“lam very sorry,” said the Reverend Arthur, meekly. “ I suppose 
I am far from perfect.” 

“My dear old boy, you are perfect enough. You are just right ; 
and though your dear sister here gives you a good scolding sometimes, 
111 be bound to say she thinks you are the finest brother under the 
sun ! ” 

Miss Rosebury left her chair with a very pleasant smile upon her 
lips, and a twinkling in the eyes that had the effect of making her look 
ten years younger. 

“1 am going into the drawing-room,” she said, in a quick little de- 
cided w^ay. “ Arthur, dear, I daresay Dr. Bolter would like to smoke.” 

“ But, my dear madam, it would be profanity here.” 

“ Then you shall be profane, doctor,” said the little lady, nodding 
and smiling, “ but don’t let Arthur smoke. He tried once before when 
he had a friend to dinner, and it made him very, very sick.” 

The Reverend Arthur raised his eyebrows in a deprecating way, and 
then shook his head sadly. 

“Then I will not lure him on to indulgence in such a bad habit. 
Miss Rosebury,” said the little doctor. “In fact, I feel that I ought 
not to indulge myself.” 

“ Well, I really think it is very shocking, doctor ! ” said Miss Rose- 
bury, merrily. “You, a medical man, and you have confessed to a 
love for w'hiskey and now for tobacdo ! ” 

“No, no; no, no!” he cried, holding up his hands. “They are 
nauseous medicines that I take to do me good.” 

“ Indeed 1 ” said the little lady, lingering in the room, and hanging 
about her brother’s chair as if loth to go ; and there was a very sarcastic 
ring in her voice. 

“ Oh, be merciful. Miss Rosebury ! ” said the doctor, laughing. “I 
am only a weak man — a solitary wanderer upon the face of the earth ! 
I have no pleasant home. I have no sister to keep house.” 

“And keep you in order,” said the Reverend Arthur, smiling plea- 
santly. 

“And to keep me in order ! cried the doctor. “Mine’s a hard life. 
Miss Rosebury, and with all a man’s vanity — a little man’s vanity, for 
w'e little men have a great deal of conceit to make up for our w'ant of 
stature — I think I do deserve a few creature comforts.” 

“ Which you shall have while you stay, doctor ; so now light your 
cigar, for I’ll be bound to say you have a store of the . little black rolls 
somewhere about you.” 

“ I confess,” he said, smiling, “ I carry them in the same case with a 
few surgical instruments.” 

“ But I think w’e’ll go into the little greenhouse, Mary,” said the 
Reverend Arthur. “I feel sure Harry Bolter would not mind.” 

“ Mind? My dear Miss Rosebury, I’ll go and sit outside on a gate 
and smoke if you like.” 

“No, no,” said the Reverend Arthur, mildly; “the green fly are 
rather gaining ground amongst my flowers, and I thought it would kill 
a few.” 

“ Dr. Bolter is going to smoke his cigar here, where I am about to 


20 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


send in the coffee,” said Miss Rosebury, very decidedly, and t he Rever- 
end Arthur directed an apologetic look at his old friend. 

Hah ! ” ejaculated the little doctor, taking out his case, and select- 
ing a cigar, “ that’s just the kind of social tyranny I like. A man, sir, 
is stronger than a woman in physical development, but weaker in the 
matter of making up his mind. I never am able to make up mine, and 
I am quite sure, Arthur, old follow, that you are very weak in the 
matter of making up yours: thus, in steps the presiding genius of your 
house and bids you do this, and you do it. Yes, Miss Rosebury, I am 
going to sit here and smoke and ” 

“I am ready with a light. Dr. Bolter,” said the little lady, standing 
close by with a box and a wax-match in her hands. 

“No, no, really, my dear madam, I could not think of beginning while 
you are here.” 

Scratch! went the match; there was a flash from the composition, 
and then Miss Rosebury’s plump taper little fingers held out the tiny 
wax-light, which was taken ; there were a few pufe of bluish smoke, and 
Dr. Bolter sank back in his chair, gazing at the door through which Miss 
Rosebury had passed. 

“ Hah ! ” he ejaculated. “ I shall have to be off to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, nonsense ! ” cried the Reverend Arthur. “ I thought you would 
come and stay a month.” 

“ Stay a month ! ” cried the doctor. “ Why, my dear boy, what should 
I be fit for afterwards if I did ? ” 

“ Fit for, Harry ? ” 

“Yes, fit for. I should be totally spoiled. I should become a com- 
plete domestic sybarite, and no more fit to go back to my tasks in the 
Malay jungle than to fly. No, Arthur, old fellow, it would never do.” 

“We shall keep you as long as you can stay,” said the Reverend 
Arthur, smiling. “ But seriously, did you not exaggerate about those 
young ladies ? ” 

“ Not in the least, my dear boy, as far as regards one of them. The 
other — old Stuart’s little lassie — seems to be all that is pretty and 
demure. But I don’t suppose there is any harm in Helen Perowne. 
She is a very handsome girl of about twenty or one-and-twenty, and I 
suppose she has been kept shut up there by the old ladies, and probably, 
with the best intentions, treated like a child.” 

“ That must be rather a mistake,” murmured the Reverend Arthur, 
dreamily. 

“ A mistake, sir, decidedly. If you have sons or daughters never for- 
get that they grow up to maturity; and if you wish to keep them caged 
up, let it be in a cage whose bars ai’e composed of good training, con- 
fidence, and belief in the principles you have sought to instil.” 

“ Yes, I quite agree with you, Harry.” 

“ Why, my dear boy, what can bo more absurd than to take a hand- 
some young girl and tell her that men are a kind of wild beast that 
must never be looked at, much more spoken to — suppressing all the 
young aspirations of heart ? ” 

“ I suppose it would bo wrong, Harry.” 

“ Wrong and absurd, sir. There is the vigorous young growth that 


A VERY NICE LITTLE WOMAN. 


21 


will have play, and yoti tighten it up in- a pair of moral stays, so to 
speak, with the result that the growth pushes forth in an abnormal way 
to the detriment of the subject; and in the future you have a moral 
distortion instead of a healthy young plant. Ha — ha ! — ha — ha ! 

“Why do you laugh? ” said the Reverend Arthur. “ I think what 
you have said quite right, only that ladies like the Misses Twettenham 
are, as it were, forced to a very rigid course.” 

“ Yes, yes, exactly. I was laughing because it seems so absurd for a 
pair of old fogies of bachelors like us to be laying down the law as to 
the management and training of young girls. But look here, Arthur, 
old fellow, as I am in. for this job of guardian to these girls, I should 
like to have something intermediate.” 

“Something intermediate? I don’t understand you. Thank you; 
set the coffee down, Betsey.” 

“ Hah ! Yes ; capital cup of coffee, Arthur,” said the doctor, after a 
pause. “ Best cup I’ve tasted for years.” 

“ Yes, it is nice,” said the Reverend Arthur, smiling, as if gratified 
at his friend’s satisfaction. “ My sister always makes it herself.” 

“That woman’s a treasure, sir. Might I ask for another cup ? ” 

“ Of course, my dear Harry. Pray consider that you are at home.” 

The coffee was rung for and brought, after a whispered conversation 
between Betsey the maid and Miss Mary the mistress. 

“ What did they ring for, Betsey ? ” asked Miss Mary. 

“ The little gentleman wants some more coffee, ma’am.” 

“ Then he likes it,” said Miss Mary, who somehow seemed unduly 
excited. “ But hush, Betsey; you must not say ‘ the little gentleman,’ 
but ‘ Dr. Bolter.’ He is your master’s dearest friend.” 

A minute or two later the maid came out from the little dining- 
room, with scarlet cheeks and wide-open eyes, to where Miss Mary was 
lying in wait. 

“ Is anything the matter, Betsey? ” she asked, anxiously. 

“ No, ma’am, only the little Dr. Bolter, ma’am, he took up the 

cup and smelt i^, just as if it was a smelling-bottle or one of master’s 
roses, ma’am.” 

“ Yes --yes,” whispered Miss Mary, impatiently. 

“And then he put about ten lumps of sugar in it, ma’am.” 

“ How many, Betsey ? ” 

“Ten big lumps, mum, and tasted; and while I was clearing away he 
said, ‘ Hambrosher ! ’ I don’t know what he meant, but that’s what he 
said, mum.” 

“That will do, Betsey,” whispered Miss Mary. “Mind that the 
heater is very hot. I’ll come and cut the bread and butter myself.” 

Betsey went her way, and Miss Mary returned to the little drawing- 
room, uttering a sigh of satisfaction ; and it is worthy of record, that 
before closing the door she sniffed twice, and thought that at a distance 
the smell of cigars was after all not so very bad. 

Meanwhile the conversation had been continued in the dining-room. 

“ What do I mean by intermediate, Arthur? Well, I don’t want to 
take those girls at one jump from the conventual seclusion of their 
school to what would seem to them like the wild gaiety of one of the 


22 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


great steamers of the Messageries Maritimcs. I should like to give them 
a little society first.” 

“ Exactly; very wisely,” assented the Eeverend Arthur. 

“ So I thought if your sister would call on the Misses Twettenham 
with you, and you would have them here two or three times to spend 
the day, and a little of that sort of thing — do you see ? ” 

“Certainly. We will talk to Mary about it when we go in to tea. I 
am sure she would be very pleased.” 

“ That’s right ; and now what do you say to a trot in the garden ? ’ 

“I shall be delighted ! ” was the reply; and they W'ent out of the 
French window into the warm glow of the soft spring evening, the 
doctor throwing away the stump of his cigar as they came in sight of 
Miss Mary with a handkerchief tied lightly over her head, busy at work 
with scissors and basket cutting some flowers ; and for the next hour 
they were walking up and down, listening to the doctor’s account of 
Malaya— its heat, its thunderstorms, and tropic rains ; the beauties of 
the vegetation ; the glories of its nights when the fire-flies were scintil- 
lating amidst the trees and shrubs that overhung the river, and so on, 
for the doctor never seemed to tire. 

“ How anxious you must be to return, doctor ! ” said little Miss Kose- 
bury at last. 

“ No,” he said, frankly. “ No, I am not. I am very happy here in 
this charming little home ; but when I go back, I hope to be as happy 
there, for I shall be busy, and work has its pleasures.” 

Brother an^ sister assented, and soon after they went in to tea, over 
which the visiting question was broached, and after looking rather 
severe, little Miss Kosebury readily assented to call and invite the young 
ladies to spend a day. 

The evening glided away like magic ; and before the doctor could 
credit that it was so late, he had to say “ good-night,” and was ushered 
into his bedroom. 

“ Hah ! ” ejaculated the little man, as he sank into a soft little casy- 
chair, covered with snow-white dimity, and gazed atthe#'hite hangings, 
the pretty paper, the spotless furniture, and breathed in the pleasant scent 
of fresh flowers, of which there was a large bunch upon his dressing- 
table. “ Hah ! ” he ejaculated again, and rising softly, he went to the 
table and looked at the blossoms. 

“ Why, those are the flowers she was cutting when we went down the 
garden,” he said to himself ; and he went back to his chair, and became 
very thoughtful. 

At the end of a quarter of an hour he wound up his watch and 
placed it beneath his pillow, and then stood thinking fora few minutes 
before slowly pulling off his boots. 

As he took off one, he took it up meditatively, gazed at the sole and 
then at the interior, saying softly : 

“ She is really a very nice little woman ! ” 

Then he took off the other boot, and whispered the same sentiment 
in that, and all in the most serious manner; while just before dropping 
off into a pleasant, restful sleep, he said, quite aloud this time: 

“ A very nice little woman indeed I ” 


VISITORS AT THE RECTORY. 


23 


CHAPTER VI. 

TISITORS AT TUB RECTOBT* 

T/ie facfc of its being the wish of the appointed guardian of the young 
ladies was sufficient to make the Misses Twettenham readily acquiesce 
to an invitation being accepted ; and before many days had passed 
little Miss Rosebury drove over in the pony-carriage, into the front 
seat of which Helen Perowne, in the richest dress she possessed, glided 
with a grace and dignity that seemed to say she was conferring a favour. 

“I wish you could drive, my dear,” said little Miss Rosebury, 
smiling in Gray Stuart’s face, for there was something in the fair young 
countenance which attracted her. 

“ May I ask why?” replied Gray. 

“ Because it seems so rude to make you take the back seat.” 

For answer Gray nimbly took her place behind ; ' while, ns Helen 
Perowne settled herself in a graceful, reclining attitude. Miss Rosebury 
took her seat, the round fat pony tossed its head, hands were wavecl, 
and away the little carriage spun along the ten miles’ drive between 
Mayleyfield and the Rectory. 

Helen was languid and quiet, leaning back with her (ye^ half closed, 
while Gray bent forward between them and chatted with Miss Rosebury, 
the little lady seeming to be at home with her at once. 

Before they had gone a mile, thoiigh, the observant charioteer noticed 
that Gray started and coloured vividly at the sight of a tall, thin youth 
with a downy moustache, who eagerly raised his hat, as if to show his 
fair curly hair as they passed. 

“Then she has a lover too,” said Miss Rosebury to herself ; for 
Helen Perowne sat unmoved, and did not appear to see the tall youth 
as they drove by him, but kept her eyes half closed, the long lashes 
drooping almost to her cheeks. 

Little Miss Rosebxiry darted a keen glance at both the girls in tiirn, 
to see Gray Stuart colour more deeply still beneath her scrutiny ; while 
Helen Perowne raised her eyes on finding Miss Rosebury looking at her, 
and smiled, her face wearing an inquiring look the while. 

Dr. Bolter had gone to town on business, so it had been decided that 
the visitors should stay for a couple of nights at the Rectory, where the 
Reverend Arthur, trowel in one hand, basket in the other, was busy at 
work filling the beds with geraniums when the pony-carriage drew up. 

He slowly placed basket and trowel upon the grass as the carriage 
stopped, and forgetful of the state of his .hands, helped the ladies 
to alight, leaving the imprint of his earthy fingers upon Helen’s delicate 
gloves. 

Gray saw what took place, and expected an angry show of impatience 
on her companion’s part ; but on the contrary, Helen held up her hands 
and laughed in quite a merry way. 

“Oh. Arthur,” exclaimed Miss Rosebury, “how thoughtless you 
are ! ” ' 

The Reverend Arthur looked in dismay at the mischief he had done. 


24 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


and taking out his pocket-handkerchief — one that had evidently been 
used for wiping earthy fingers before — he deliberately took first one 
and then the other of Helen Perowne’s hands to try and remove the 
marks he had made upon her gloves. 

“I am very sorry, Miss Perowne,”he said, in his quiet, deliberate 
way. “It was very thoughtless of me; I have been planting 
geraniums.” 

To the amazement of Gray Stuart, Helen gazed full in the curate’s 
face, smilingly surrendering her hands to the tender dusting they 
received. 

Miss Eosebury was evidently annoyed, for she turned from surren- 
dering the reins to the gardener, who was waiting to lead away the 
pony, and exclaimed : 

“ Oh, Arthur, you foolish man, what are you doing ? Miss Perowne’s 
hands are not the leaves of plants.” 

“ No, my dear Mary,” said the Eeverend Arthur, in the most serious 
manner ; “ and I am afraid I have made the mischief worse.” 

“ It does not matter, Mr. Eosebury. It is only a pair of gloves — I 
have plenty more,” said Helen, hastily stripping them off regardless of 
buttons, and tearing them in the effort. They were of the thinnest 
and finest French kid, and as she hastily rolled them up she looked 
laughingly round for a place to throw them, ending by dropping them 
into the large garden basket half full of little geranium pots, while the 
Eeverend Arthur’s eyes rested gravely upon the delicate blue-veined 
hands with their taper fingers and rosy nails. 

“ Come, my dears,” exclaimed Miss Eosebury, in her quick, chirpy 
way, “ I’m sure you would like to come and take off your things after 
your hot, dusty drive. This way; and pray do go and wash your 
hands, Arthur.” 

“ Certainly, my dear Mary,” he replied, slowly. “ If I had thought 
of it I would have done so before. I am very glad to see you at the 
Eectory, Miss Perowne. May I ” 

He held out his earth-soiled hand to shako that of his visitor, but 
recollecting himself, he let it fall again, as he did the words he was 
about to speak. 

“ I do not mind,” said Helen, quickly, as she extended her own hand, 
which the curate had no other course than to take, and he did so with a 
slight colour mounting to his pale cheeks. 

Gray Stuart offered her hand in turn, her darker glove showing no 
trace of the contact. 

“ I don’t like her,” said little Miss Eosebury to herself, and her lips 
tightened a little as she looked sidewise at Helen. She’s a dreadfully 
handsome, wicked girl. I’m sure ; and she tries to make eveiy man fall 
in love with her that she sees. She’ll be trying Dr. Bolter next.” 

It was as if the sudden breath of a furnace had touched her cheeks as 
this thought crossed her mind, and she quite started as she took Gray 
Stuart’s arm, saying once more, as in an effort to change the current of 
her thoughts ; 

“ Come, my dears ; and do pray, Arthur, go and take off that dread- 
ful coat I ” 


VISITORS AT THE RECTORY. 


25 


“ les, my dear Mary, certainly,” he said ; and smiling benignly at 
all in turn, he was moving towards the door, when Helen exclaimed, 
quickly : 

“lam not at all tired. I was going to ask Mr. Rosebury to show 
me round his garden.” 

There was a dead silence, only broken by the dull noise of the wheels 
of the pony-carriage rasping the gravel drive ; there was the chirp of a 
sparrow too on the mossy roof-tiles, and then a fowl in the stable-yard 
clapped its wings loudly and uttered a triumphant crow, as, with old- 
fashioned chivalrous politeness, the Reverend Arthur took off his soft 
felt hat and offered his arm. 

For it was like a revelation to him — an awakening from a quiet, 
dreamy, happy state of existence, into one full of excitement and life, 
as he saw that beautiful young creature standing before him with a 
sweet, appealing look in her eyes, and one of those soft white hands 
held appealingly forth, asking of him a favour. 

And what a favour ! She asked him to show her his garden -his 
pride — the place where he spent all his spare moments. His pale cheeks 
really did flush slightly now, and his soft, dull eyes brightened as if 
the reflection of Helen’s youth and beauty irradiated the thin face, the 
white forehead, and sparse gray hairs bared to the soft breeze. 

Miss Mary Rosebury felt a -bitter pang shoot through her tender 
little breastj and once more, as she saw Helen’s hand rest upon her 
brother’s shabby alpaca coat-sleeve, she compressed her lips, and felt 
that she hated this girl. 

“ She’s a temptress — a wicked coquette,” she thought. 

It was a matter of moments only, and then she recollected herself. 

Her first idea was to go round the garden with ’Helen; but she 
shrank from the act as being inquisitorial, and turning to Gray, she took 
her arm. 

“ Let them go and see the garden, my dear. You and I will go and 
get rid of the dust. There,” she continued, as she led her.visitor into 
the little flower-bedecked drawing-room, “does it not strike nice and 
cool ? Our rooms look very small after yours.” 

“ Oh ! but so bright and cheerful,” said Gray, quietly. 

“ Now I’ll show you your bedroom,” said Miss Rosebury, whose feel- 
ing of annoyance was gone. “I’m obliged to put you both in the 
same room, and you must arrange between you who is to have the little 
bed. Now, welcome to the Rectory, my dear, and I hope you will 
enjoy your visit. Let me help you.” 

For Gray had smiled her thanks, and was taking off her bonnet, the 
wire of which had somehow become entangled with her soft, fair, wavy 
hair. 

Miss Rosebury’s clever, plump little Angers deftly disentangled the 
bonnet, and then, not satisfied, began to smooth the slightly dis- 
hevelled hair, as if finding pleasure in playing with the fair, sunny 
strands that only seemed to ask for a dexterous turn or twist to naturally 
hang in clusters of curls. 

Miss Rosebury’s other hand must have been jealous, for it too rose to 
Gray’s head and joined in the gentle caress ; while far from looking 


26 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


tight, and forming a thin red line, the little middle-aged lady’s lips 
were in smiling curves, and her eyes beamed very pleasantly at her 
young visitor, who seemed to be half pleased, half pained at the other’s 
tender way. 

“ I am sure I shall be sorry to go away again,” said Gray, softly. 
“ It is very kind of you to fetch us here.” 

“Not at all, my dear,” said Miss Eosebury, starting from her 
reverie; “but-“butl’m afraid I must be very strict with you,” she 
continued, in a half-merry, half-reproving tone. “ The Misses Twet- 
.tenham have confided you to my care, and I said — I said ” 

“ You said. Miss Eosebury ? ” exclaimed Gray, in wondering tones, 
and her large, soft eyes looked their surprise. 

“ Yes, I said, as we came away, I’m a very peculiar, particular old 
lady, my dear ; and I can’t have tall gentlemen making bows to you 
when you are in my charge.” 

“ Oh, Miss Eosebury ! ” cried Gray, catching her hand and blushing 
scarlet, “ please — pray don’t think that ! It was not to me ! ” 

Ah ! ” exclaimed the little lady, softly. “ Hum ! I see ; ” and she 
looked searchingly in the fair young face so near to hers. “ It was my 
mistake, my dear ; I beg your pardon.” 

Gray’s face was all smiles, though her eyes were full of tears, and 
the next moment she was clasped tightly to Miss Eosebury’s breast, 
responding to her motherly kisses, and saying, eagerly : 

“ I could not bear for you to think that.” 

“And I ought never to have thought it, my dear,” said the little 
lady, softly patting and smoothing Gray’s hair. ‘ ‘ Why, I ought to have 
known you a long time ago ; and now I do know you, I hear you are 
going away ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Gray, “and so very soon. My father wishes me to join 
him at the station.” 

“ Yes, I know, my dear. It is quite right, for he is alone.” 

“ And he says it is dull without me ; but he wished me to thoroughly 
finish my education first.” 

“ You don’t recollect mamma, my dear, the doctor tells me ? ’ 

“ No,” said Gray, shaking her head. “ She died when I was a very 
little child — the same year as Mrs. Perowne,” 

“ A sad position for two young girls,” said Miss Eosebury. 

“Put the Misses Twettenham have always been so kind,” said Gray, 
eagerly. “ I shall be very, very sorry to go away.” 

“ And will Helen Perowne be very, very sorry to go away ? ” 

Gray Stuart’s face assumed a troubled expression, and she looked ap- 
pealingly in her questioner’s face, which immediately became all smiles. 

“There, there, I fetched you both over to enjoy yourselves, and I’m 
postering you with questions. Come into my room, my dear, while I 
wash my hands, and then we’ll go and join the triumts in the garden. 
I want you to like my brother very much, and I am sure he will like 
you.” 

“ I know I shall,” said Gray, quietly, but with a good deal of bright 
girlish ingenuousness in her tones. “ Dr. Bolter told me a great deal 
about him ; how clever he is as a naturalist. I do like Dr. Bolter.” 


A LESSON IN BOTANY. 


27 


Miss Rosebury glanced at her sharply. It was an involuntary 
glance, which changed directly into a beaming look of satisfaction, as 
they crossed the landing to iMiss Rosebury’s own room, where their 
conversation lengthened so that the “truants,” as the little lady called 
them, were forgotten. 


CHAPTER VII. 

A LESSON IN BOTANY. 

Meanwhile the Reverend Arthur, with growing solicitude, was walking 
his garden as in a dream, explaining to his companion the progress of 
his flowers, his vegetables, and his fruit. 

The beds were searched for strawberries that were not ready ; the 
wall-trees were looked at reproachfully for not bearing ripe fruit 
months before their time; and the roses, that should have been in 
perfection, were grieved over for their fall during the week-past storm. 

It was wonderful to him what sweet and earnest interest this fair 
young creature took in his pursuits, and how eagerly she listened to his 
discourse when, down by the beehives, he explained the habits of his 
bees, and removed screens to let her see the working insects within. 

Miss Mary Rosebury took an interest in his garden and in his 
botanical pursuits, but nothing like this. She did not keep picking 
weeds and wild flowers from beneath the hedge, and listen with rapt 
attention while he pointed out the class, the qualities, and peculiarities 
of the plant. 

Helen Perowne did, and it was quite a privilege to a weed to be 
picked, as was that stitchwort that had run its long trailing growth 
right up in the hedge, so as to give its pale green leaves and regular 
white cut-edged blossoms a good long bathe in the sunshine where the 
insects played. 

“ I have often seen these little white flowers in the hedges,” she said, 
softly. “I suppose they are too insignificant to have a name ? ” 

She stooped and picked the flower as she spoke, looking in her com- 
panion’s eyes for an answer. 

“Insignificant ? No ! ” he cried, warming to his task. “ No flower 
is insignificant. The very smallest have beauties that perhaps we 
cannot see.” 

“ Indeed,” she said; and he looked at the blue veins beneath the 
transparent skin, as Helen held up the flower. “ Then has this a name ? ” 

“Yes,” he said, rousing himself from a strange reverie, “a very 
simple, homely name — the stitchwort. Later on in the season you will 
find myriads of its smaller relative, the lesser stitchwort. They belong 
to the chickweed tribe.” 

“ Not the chickweed with which I used to feed my dear little bird 
that died ? ” 

“The very same,” he replied, smiling. “Next -time you pluck a 
bunch you will see that, though tiny, tlie flowers strangely resemble 
these.” 


23 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ And the lesser stitchwort ? ” 

“Yes?” he said, inquiringly. 

“ Is it like this ? ” 

“ Nearly the same, only the flowers are half the size.’* 

“And it grows where ? ” 

“ In similar places — by hedges and ditches.” 

“ But you said something about time.” 

“Yes,” replied the Keverend Arthur, who was thinking how 
wondrous pleasant it W'ould be to go on teaching botany to such a pupil 
for evermore. “ Yes, it is a couple of months, say, later than the 
great stitchwort.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Helen, with a sigh. “ By that time I shall be far 
away.” 

The stitchwort fell to the ground, and they walked on together, with 
Helen, Circe-like, transforming the meek, studious, elderly man by her 
side, so that he was ready to obey her slightest whim, eagerly trying 
the while to explain each object upon which her eye seemed to rest ; 
while she, glorying in her new power, led him on and on, with soft 
word, and glance, and sigh. 

They had been at least an hour in the garden when they reached the 
vinery, through whose open door came the SAveet, inviting scent of the 
luxuriant tender growth. 

“ What place is this ? ” she cried. 

‘ ‘ My vinery. May I shoAV you in ? ** 

‘ ‘ It would give you so much trouble.** 

“ Trouble ? ” he said ; and taking off his hat, he drew back for her 
to enter. 

“ And Avill all those running things bear grapes ? ” she asked, as, 
throwing back her head and displaying the soft contour of her beauti- 
fully moulded throat, she gazed up at the tendril-handed vines. 

“ Yes,” he said, dreamily, “ these are the young bunches with berries 
scarcely set. You see they groAv too fast. I have to break off large 
pieces to keep them back, and tie them to those wires overhead.” 

“Oh, do show me, Mr. Hosebury ? ” she cried, Avith childlike 
eagerness. 

“ Yes,” he said, smiling ; “ but I must climb up there.’* 

“ What, on to that board ? ” 

“ Yes, and tie them with this strong foreign grass.” 

“ Oh, how interesting ! How beautiful ! ” she cried, her red lips 
parted and showing the little regular white teeth within. “ I never 
thought that grapes would grow like this. Please show me more.” 

He climbed and sprawled awkwardly on to the great plank that 
reached from tie to tie, seating himself astride with the consequence 
that his trousers were dragged half way up his long, thin legs, reveal- 
ing his clumsily-made garden shoes. In his eagerness to show his 
visitor the growing of his vines he heeded it not ; but after snapping 
off a luxuriant shoot, he was about to tie the residue to a stout wire, 
when a cry of fear from Helen arrested him. 

“ Oh, Mr. Kosebury, pray, pray get down I she cried, “ It is not 
safe. I’m sure you’ll fall ! ” 


HELEN’S DISCOVERY. 


29 


“ It is quite safe,” he said, mildly ; and he looked down with a 
bland smile at the anxious face below him. 

“ Oh, no,” she cried ; “ it cannot be.” 

“I have tested it so many times,” he said. “Pray do not be 
alarmed.” 

“ But I am alarmed,” she cried, looking up at him with an agitated 
air that made him hasten to descend, going through a series of evolu- 
tions that did not tend to set off his ungainly figure to advantage, and 
ended in landing him at her feet minus the bottom button of his 
vest. 

“ Thank you,” she cried. “ I am afraid I am ver}*- timid, but I could 
not bear to see you there.” 

“ Then I must leave my vines for the present,” he said, smiling. 

“Oh, if you please,” she cried; and then, as they left the vinery, 
she relapsed into so staid and dignified a mood, that the Reverend 
Arthur felt troubled and as if he had been guilty of some grave want 
of courtesy to his sister’s guest, a state of inquietude that was ended 
by the coming of Miss Rosebury and Gray. 


CHAPTER Vni. 

Helen’s discovery. 

The nearness of the date for the long voyage to the East came like a 
surprise to the occupants of the Rectory and the Misses Twettenham’s 
establishment. Dr. Bolter had come down to stay at the Rectory for 
a few days, and somehow — no one could tell the manner of its 
happening — the few days, with occasional lapses for business matters, 
had grown into a few weeks, and still there seemed no likelihood of 
his leaving. 

What was more, no one seemed to wish him to leave. He and the 
Reverend Arthur went out on botanical rambles, and came back loaded 
with specimens about which they discoursed all the evenings, while 
Miss Rosebury sat and worked. 

Upon sundry occasions the young ladies from Miss Twettenham’s 
came over to spend the day, when Gray would be treated by Miss 
Rosebury with affectionate solicitude, and Helen with a grave courtesy 
that never seemed to alter unless for the parties concerned to grow 
more distant. 

With the Reverend Arthur, though, it was different. Upon the days 
of these visits he was changed. His outward appearance was the same, 
but there was a rapt, dreamy way pervading his actions and speech, and 
for the greater portion of the time he would be silent. 

Not that this was observed, for the doctor chatted and said enough 
for all — telling stories, relating the experiences of himself and the 
curate in the w^oods, while Helen sat back in her chair proud and list- 
less, her eyes half closed, and a languid look of hauteur in her handsome 


30 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


face. When addressed she -would rouse herself for the moment, hut 
sank hack into her proud listlessness directly, looking bored, and as if 
she tolerated, because she could not help it, the jokes and sallies of the 
doctor. 

The incident of the tall, fair young man -was dead and buried. 
Whatever encouraging looks he may have had before, however his 
young love may have begun to sprout, it had been cut off by the un- 
timely frosts of Helen Perowne’s indifference ; for no matter how often 
he might waylay the school during walks, he never now received a 
glance from the dark beauty’s eyes. 

The unfortunate youth, after these meetings, would console himself 
with the thought that he could place himself opposite in church, and 
there dart appeal into her eyes ; but the very first Sunday he went it 
was to find that Helen had changed her seat, so that it was her back 
and not her face at which he gazed. 

A half-crown bestowed upon the pew-opener — young men at such 
times are generous — remedied this difficulty, and, in the afternoon he 
had secured a seat opposite to Helen once again ; but the very next 
Sunday she had changed her place, and no matter how he tried, Helen 
always avoided his gaze. 

A month killed the tender passion, and the young gentleman disap- 
peared from Mayloyfield for good — at least so it is to be hoped, for no 
ill was heard of the hapless youth, the first smitten down by Helen 
Perowne’s dark eyes. 

“ I’m very glad we never see him now,” said Helen one day, when 
they were staying at the Eectory ; and incidentally the troubles at Miss 
Twettenham’s were named. 

“ So am I,” said Gray, quietly. “ It was such a pity tha.t you should 
have noticed him at all. 

“Nonsense! He was only a silly, overgrown boy; but oh. Gray, 
child,” cried Helen, in a burst of confidence, “isn’t the Heverend 
Arthur delicious ? ” 

“Delicious?” replied Gray, gazing at her wonderingly. “I don’t 
understand you.” 

“Oh, nonsense! He is so droll-looking, so tall and thin, and so 
attentive. I declare I feel sometimes as if I could make everyone ray 
slave. ” 

“ Oh ! Helen, pray don’t talk like that ! ” cried Gray, in alarm. 

“ Why not ? Is a woman to be always wearing a pinafore and eating 
bread and butter ? I’m not a child now. Look, there comes Dr. 
Bolter along the lane. Stand back from the window, or he’ll be blow- 
ing kisses at us, or some nonsense. I declare I hate that man ! ” 

“ I like Dr. Bolter,” said Gray, quietly. 

“Yes, you like everyone who is weak and stupid. Dr. Bolter 
always treats me as if I were a child. A silly, fat, dumpy little 
stupid; feeling my pulse and making me put out my tongue. He 
makes my fingers tingle to box his ears.” 

“ I think Dr. Bolter takes great interest in us,” said Gray, slowly, and 
she stood gazing through the open window of their bedroom at the 
figure of the little doctor, as ho came slowly down the lane, his eyes 


HELEN’S DISCOVERY. 


31 


intent upon the weeds, and every now and then making a dart at some 
plant beneath the hedge, and evidently quite forgetful of his proximity 
to the Rectory gate. 

“ Interest, yes ! ” cried Helen, who, in the retirement of their bedroom 
threw off her languid ways, and seemed full eagerness and animation. 
“ A nice prospect for us, cooped up on board ship with a man like that ! I 
declare 1 feel quite ashamed of him. I wonder what sort of people we 
shall have as cabin passengers,” 

“They are sure to be nice,” said Gray. 

“There will be some officers,” continued Helen ; “ and some of them 
are sure to be young. I’ve heard of girls going out to India being 
engaged to be married directly. I say. Miss Demure, what fun it would 
be if we were to be engaged directly.” 

Gray Stuart looked at her old school-fellow, half wondering at her 
flippancy, half in pain, but Helen went on, as if getting rid of so much 
vitality before having to resume her stiff, distant ways. 

“ Did you notice how silly the Reverend Arthur was last night? ” 

“ No,” replied Gray. “ I thought ho was very kind.” 

“ I thought he was going down upon his knees to kiss my feet ! ” 
cried Helen, with a mocking laugh; and her eyes spai*kled and the 
colour came brightly in her cheeks. “ Oh ! Gray, you little fair, soft, 
weak kitten of a thing, why don’t you wake up and try to show your 
power.” 

“Nelly, you surprise me!” cried Gray. “How can you talk so 
giddily, so foolishly about such things ! ” 

“Because lam no longer a child,” cried. the girl, proudly, and she 
drew herself up and walked backwards and forwards across the room. 
“ Do you suppose I do not know how handsome I am, and how people 
admire me? Well, I’m not going to be always kept down. Look 
at the long, weary years of misery we have had at that wretched 
school.” 

‘ ‘ Helen, you hurt me, ” said Gray. ‘ ‘ Your words are cruel. No one 
could have been kinder to us than the Miss Twettenhams.” 

“Kinder — nonsense! Treated us like infants ; but it is over now, 
and I mean to be free. Who is that on the gravel path ? Oh I it’s 
poor Miss Rosebury. What a funny, sharp little body she is ! ” 

“Always so kind and genial to us,” said Gray. 

“ To you. She likes you as much as she detests me.” 

“ Oh, Nelly! ” 

“ She does ; but not more than I detest her. She would not have me 
here at all if she could help it.” 

“ Oh ! why do you say such things as that, Helen ? ” 

“ Because they are true. She does not like me because her brother 
is so attentive; and she seemed quite annoyed yesterday when the 
doctor spent so long feeling my pulse and talking his physic jargon to 
me. And — oh. Gray, hush ! Come gently — here, beside this curtain I 
Don’t let them see you ! What a discovery ! Let’s go and fetch the 
Reverend Arthur to see as well.” 

“ Oh, Helen, how wild you are ! What do you mean ? ” 

“ That ! ” whispered Helen, catching her school-fellow tightly by the 

3 


32 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


arm as she wrenched her into position, so that she could look out of the 
little flower-decked window. “ What do I mean ? Why, that! See 
there ! ” 


CHAPTER IX. 

** I AM FOKTY-FOUU.” 

There was very little to see ; and if Gray Stuart had accidentally seen 
what passed with unbiased eyes, she would merely have noted that, as 
Dr. Bolter encountered Miss Rosebury at the gate, he shooks hands 
warmly, paused for a moment, and then raised one of the lady’s soft, 
plump little hands to his lips. 

Gray would not have felt surprised. Why should she? The 
Reverend Arthur Rosebury was Dr. Bolter’s oldest and dearest friend, 
to whom the Roseburys were under great obligations ; and there was 
nothing to Gray Stuart’s eyes strange in this warm display of friend- 
ship. 

Helen gave the bias to her thoughts as she laughingly exclaimed : 

“ Then the silly little woman was jealous of him yesterday. Oh, do 
look, Gray ! Did you ever see anything so absurd ? They are just like 
a pair of little round elderly doves. You see if the doctor does not 
propose. ” 

“What nonsense, Helen!” cried Gray, reproachfully. “You are 
always talking and thinking of such things as that. Miss Rosebury 
and Dr. Bolter are very old friends.” 

“ That they are not. They never met till a few w'eeks ago ; and 
perhaps, madam, the time may come when you will talk and think 
about such things as much as I.” 

Certainly there was little more to justify Helen Perowne’s remark as 
the doctor and Miss Rosebury came along the garden path, unless the 
unusual flush in the lady’s cheek was the effect of the heat of the 
sun. 

But Helen Perowne was right, nevertheless, for a strange tumult 
was going on in little Miss Rosebury’s breast. 

She knew that Dr. Bolter, although he had not S{iid a word, was day 
by day becoming more and more impressive and almost tender in his 
way towards her. 

He lowered his voice when he spoke, and was always so deeply con- 
cerned about her health, that more than once her heart had been guilty 
of so peculiar a flutter that she had been quite angry with herself ; 
going to her own room, taking herself roundly to task, and asking 
whether, after living to beyond forty, she ought over for a moment 
to dream of becoming different from what she was. 

That very day, after feeling very much agitated by Dr. Bolter’s 
gravely-tender salute at the gate, she was completely taken by surprise. 

For towards evening, when the Reverend Arthur had asked Helen if 
she would take a turn round the garden, and that young lady had risen 


“I AM FORTY-FOUR/* 


33 


with graceful dignity, and asked Gray to be her companion, Miss Rose- 
bury and the doctor were left in the drawing-room alone. 

The little lady’s soul had risen in opposition to her brother’s request 
to Helen, and she had been about to rise and say that she too would go, 
when she was quite disarmed by Helen . herself asking Gray to accom- 
pany them, and she sank back in her seat with a satisfied sigh. 

“ I declare the wicked thing is trying to lead poor Arthur on ; and he 
is so w'eak and foolish that he might bo brought to make himself 
uncomfortable about her.” 

She sat thinking for a few moments as the girls left the room, and 
then settled herself in her chair with a sigh. 

“ It is all nonsense,” she said to herself. “ Arthur is like me — too 
old now ever to let such folly trouble his breast.” 

A loud snap made her start as Hr. Bolter closed his cigar-case after 
spending some time in selecting a cigar, one of which he had made up 
his mind to smoke in the garden. 

Just then their eyes met, and the little lady rose, walked to her 
writing-table, took a brass box from a drawer, struck a match, and 
advanced with it in her fingers towards the doctor. 

Ho replaced his cigar-case, and held out one hand for the match, took 
it, and blew it out before throwing it fropi the open window. 

“ Was it not a good one ? ” said Siss Rosebury, beginning to 
tremble. . > 

‘No,” ho said, quickly, as ^c^t^^t the cigar into his waistcoat 

's hand in his loft and looked 


pocket ; “ and I could not smo]^ ffe. 

As he spoke he took the li|l^ 
pleadingly in her face. 

“ Hr. Bolter ! ” she exclaimed there was anger in her tone. 

“Don’t — don’t,” ho exclaimed. Huskily, and as if involuntarily his 
forefinger was pressed upon he^ wrist — “ don’t be agitated. Miss 
Rosebury. Greatly accelerated pulse — almost feverish. Will you sit 
down ? ” 

Trembling, and with her face scarlet, he led the little lady to the 
couch, where, snatching her hand away, she sank down, caught her 
handkerchief from her pocket, covered her face with it, and burst into 


tears. 

“ What have I done ? ” he cried. “ Miss Rosebury — Miss Rosebury — I 
meant to say — I wished to speak — everything gone from me— half dumb 
— my dear Mary Rosebury — Mary — I love you wdth all my heart ! ” 

As he spoke he plumped down upon his knees before her and tried to 
remove her hands from her face. 

For a few moments she resisted, but at last she let them rest in his, 
and he seemed to gain courage and went on : 

“ It seemed so easy to tell you this ; but I, who have seen death in 
every form, and been under fire a dozen times, feel now as weak as 
a girl. Mary, dear Mary, will you be my wife ? ” 

“Oh, Dr. Bolter, pray get up, it is impossible. You must be mad,” 
she sobbed. “I must bo mad to let you say it.” 

“ No, no — no, no ! ” he cried. “ If I am mad, though, let me stay so, 
for I never was so happy in my life. ” 


34 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“Pray — prjij’^ get up ! ” she cried, still sobbing bitterly ; “ it would 
loolc so foolish if you were seen kneeling to an old woman like me.” 

“ Foolish ! to be kneeling and imploring the most amiable, the 
dearest W'oman — the best sister in the world? Let them see me; let 
the whole world see me. I am proud to be here begging you — praying 
you to be my W'ife.” 

“ Oh ! no, no, no ! It is all nonsense. Oh, Dr. Bolter, I — I am 
forty-four ! ” 

“Brave — courageous little w^oman,” he cried, ecstatically, “ to tell 
me out like that ! Forty-four ! ” 

“ Turned,” sobbed the little lady ; “ and I never thought now that 
anybody would talk to me like this.” 

“I don’t care if you are fifty-four or sixty-four! ” cried the little 
doctor excitedly. “lam not a youth, Mary. I’m fifty, my dear girl ; 
and I’ve been so busy all my life, that, like our dear old Arthur, I have 
never even thought of such a thing as marriage. But since I have 
been over here — seen this quiet little home, made so happy by your 
clever hands — I have learned that, after all, I had a heart, and that 
if my dear old friend’s sweet sister would look over my faults, my age, 
my uncouth ways, I should be the happiest of men.” 

“ Pray — pray get up, doctor,” said Miss Eosebury, sadly. 

“ Call me Harry, and I will,” he cried, gallantly. 

“ No, no I ” she said, softly, and there was something so firm and 
gentle in her words that he rose at once, took the seat she pointed to 
by her side, and would have passed his arm round her shapely little 
waist, but she laid one hand upon his wrist and stayed him. 

“ No, Henry Bolter,” she said, firmly; “we are not boy and girl. 
Let us act like sensible, mature, and thoughtful folk.” 

“ My dear,” he said, and the tears stood in his eyes, “I respect and 
love you more and more. What is there that I would not do ? ” 

fcJhe beamed upon him sweetly, and laid her hand upon his as they sat 
there side by side in silence, enjoying a few brief moments of the greatest 
happiness that had ever been their lot, and then the little lady spoke : 

“Henr;^, ’’she said, softly, “ my dear brother’s dearest friend — my 
dearest friend — do not think me wanting in appreciation of what you 
have said.” 

“I could never think your words other than the best,” he said, 
tenderly; and the little lady bowed her head before resuming. 

“ I will not be so foolish as to deny that in the past,” she went on, 
“there have been weak times when I may have thought that it w^ould 
be a happy thing for a man whom a woman could reverence and respect 
as well as love to come and ask me to be his wife.” 

“ As I would always strive to make you respect me, Mary,” he said, 
softly ; and he kissed her hand. 

“ I know you would,” she said, “but it cannot be.” 

“Mary,” he cried, pleadingly, “ I have waited and weighed all this, 
and asked myself whether it was vanity that made me think your dear 
eyes lighted up and that you were glad to see me when I came.” 

“You did not deceive yourself,” she said, softly. “ I was glad to 
see my dear brother’s friend when he first came, and that gladness has 


“ I AM rORTY-roUE." 


S5 


gone on increasing until, I confess to you freely, it will come upon mo 
like some great sadness when the time is here for you to go away,” 

“ Say that again,” he cried, eagerly. 

“Why should I? ” she said, sadly. 

“ Then — then you do love me, Mary ? ” 

“ I — I think so,” she said, softly; and the little lady’s voice was very 
grave ; “but love in this world has often to give way to duty.” 

“Ye — es,” he said, dubiously; “but where two people have been 
waiting such a precious long time before they found out what love really 

is, it seems rather hard to be told th;it duty must stand first.” 

“ It is hard, but it is fact,” she said. 

“ I don't know so much about that,” said the little doctor. “ Just 
now I feel as if it wjis my bounden duty to make you my happy little 
wife.” 

“And how can I think it my duty to accept you ? ” she said, smiling. 

“ Well, I do ask a groat deal,” he replied. “ It means going to the 
other side of the world ; but, my dear Mary, you should never repent 

it. ” 

“ I know I never should,” she replied. “We have only lately seen 
one another face to face, but I have known you and your kindness these 
many years.” 

‘ ‘ Then why refuse me ? ” 

“ For one thing, I am too'old,” she said, sadly. 

“Your dear little heart is too young, and good, and tender, you 
mean.” 

She shook her head. 

“ That’s no argument against it,” he .said. “And now what else ? ” 

“ There is my brother,” she replied, speaking very firmly now. 

“ Your brother ? ” 

“You know what dear Arthur is.” 

“ The simplest, and best, and truest of men.” 

“Yes,” she cried, with animation. 

“ And a clever naturalist, whose worth has never yet been thoroughly 
known.” 

“ He is unworldly to a degree,” continued the little lady ; “and as 
3 ’-ou justly say, the simplest of men.” 

“I would not have him in the slightest degree different,” cried the 
doctor. 

“I scold him agool deal sometimes,” saidthe little lady, smiling ; 
“ biit I don’t think I would have him different in the least.” 

“ No ; why should we ? ” said the doctor. 

That we was a cunning stroke of diplomacy, and it made Miss Rose- 
bury start. She shook her head though directly. 

“ No, Henry Bolter,” she ssiid, firmly, “ it cannot be.” 

“Cannot be ? ” he said, despondently. 

“No; I could not leave my brother. Let us join them in the 
garden ! ” 

“ I am not to take that for an answer ? ” cried the doctor. 

“ Yes,” she replied ; “ it would be cruel to leave him.” 

“ But Mary, dear Mary, ^mu do not dislike me ! ” cried the little 


36 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


doctor. I’m not mucli to look at I know ; not a very gallant youth, 
my dear ! ” 

“I think you are one of the best of men ! You make me very proud 
to think that — that you could— could ” 

“And you have owned to liking me, my dear?” he whispered. 
“ Say yes. Arthur would soon get used to your absence ; and of course, 
before long we should come back.” 

“No,” she said firmly, “ it could not be ! ” 

“Not be!” ho said in a tone of so much misery that little Miss 
Rosebury added : 

“ Not for me to go out there. We must wait.” 

“Wait!” 

“ Yes; a few years soon pass away, and you will return.” 

“But we — I mean I am — getting so precious old,” said the doctor 
dismally. 

“Yes, we should bo much older, Henry,” said the little lady, 
sweetly, as she held out her hand; “but surely our esteem would 
never fade.” 

“Never!” he cried, kissing her hand again; and then he laid that 
hand upon his arm, and they went out into the garden, where the little 
lady’s eyes soon made out the Reverend Arthur bending over his 
choicest flowers, to pick the finest blossoms for a bouquet ready for 
Helen Perowne to carelessly throw aside. 

Satisfied that her brother was in no imminent danger with Gray 
Stuart present, little Miss Rosebury made no opposition to a walk 
round ; the doctor thinking that perhaps, now the ice was broken, ho 
might manage to prevail. 

“How beautiful the garden is!” said the little lady to turn the 
conversation. 

“Beautiful, yes! but, my dear madam,” exclaimed the doctor, in 
didactic tones, “ a garden in Malaya, where I ask you to go — the jungle 
gorgeous with flowers — the silver river sparkling in the eternal sunshine 
• — the green of the ever-verdant woods — the mountains lifting ” 

“ Thank you, doctor,” said the little lady, “that is very pretty ; but 
when I was a young girl they took mo to see the ‘ Lady of Lyons,’ and 
I remember that a certain mock prince describes his home to the lady 
something in that way — a palace lifting to eternal summer — and lo! 
as they say in the old classic stories, it was only a gardener’s cottage 
after all ! ” 

The matter-of-fact little body had got over her emotion, and this 
remark completely extinguished the doctor for the time. 


CHAPTER X. 

MISS ROSEBURY SPEAKS SERIOUSLY. 

The next day, wEen the visitors had been driven back by the Reverend 
Arthur, his sister met him upon the step, and taking his arm, led him 
down the garden to the vine-house. 


MISS EOSEBUEY SPEAKS SEEIOUSLY. 


37 


**Lct us go in here, Arthur,” she said. “ It is such a good place to 
talk in ; there is no fear of being overheard.” 

“ Yes, it is a quiet, retired place,” he said, thoughtfully. 

“ I hope you were careful in driving, and had no accident, Arthur ? ” 

“ N— no ; I had no accident, only I drove one wheel a little up the 
bank in Sandi*ock Lane.” 

“How was that? You surely did not try to pass another carriage 
in that narrow part ? ” 

“N — no,” hesitated the Eeverend Arthur. “Let me see, how was 
it ? Oh, I remember. Miss Perowne had made some remark to me, 
and I was thinking of my answer.” 

“And nearly upset them,” cried Miss Eosebury. *‘Oh! Arthur — 
Arthur, you grow more rapt and dreamy every day ! What is coming 
to you I want to know ? ” 

The Eeverend Arthur started guiltily, and gazed at his sister. 

“Oh! Arthur,” she cried, shaking a warning finger at him, “you 
are neglecting your garden and your natural history pursuits to try and 
make yourself a cavalier of dames, and it will not do. There — there, 
I won’t scold you ; but I am beginning to think that it will be a very 
good thing when our visitors have gone for good.” 

The Eeverend Arthur sighed, and half turned away to snip off two 
or three tendrils from a vine-shoot above his head. 

“I want to talk to you very seriously, Arthur,” said the little lady, 
whose cueeks began to flush slightly with excitement; and she felt 
relieved as she saw her brother turn a little more away. 

“ I want to talk to you very seriously indeed,” said Miss Eosebury. 

“ I am listening,” he said hoarsely ; but she did not notice it in her 
excitement. 

There was a minute’s pause, during which the Eeverend Arthur 
broke off the young vine-shoot by accident, andjthen stood trying to 
replace it again. 

At last Miss Eosebury spoke. 

“Arthur,” she said — and her brother started and seemed to shiver, 
though she saw it not — “Arthur, Henry Bolter has asked me to be his 
wife I ” , 

The Eeverend Arthur turned round now, in his astonishment, with 
his face deadly white and the tiny beads of perspiration upon his 
forehead. 

“ Asked you to be his wife ? ” he said. 

“Yes, dear.” 

“lam astonished,” cried the Eeverend Arthur. “No, lam not,” 
he added, thoughtfully. “ He seemed to like you very much, Mary.” 

“ And I like him very much, Arthur, for I think him a truly good, 
amiable, earnest man.” 

“ He is, my dear Mary — he is indeed ; but — but ” 

“But what, Arthur? Were you going to say that you could not 
spare me ? ” 

‘ ‘ I — I hardly know wliat I was about to say, Mary, you took me 
so by surprise. It would be very strange, though, to be here without 
you.” 


S8 


ONB MAID’S mSCIIIEF. 


“ And you will not bo, Arthur. I felt that I must tell you. I have 
nothing that I keep from you ; but I have refused him.” 

“ You have refused him,” he said thoughtfully. 

“Yes, I felt that it would not be right to let a comparative stranger 
come in here and break up at once our happy little home. No, Arthur, 
this must all be like some dream. You and I, dear brother, are fast 
growing into elderly people ; and love such as that is the luxury of the 
young.” 

“Love such as that,” said the Reverend Arthur, softly, “ is the 
luxury of the young ! ” 

“Yes, dear brother, it would be folly in mo to give way to such 
feelings ! ” 

“ Do you like Harry ? ” he exclaimed, suddenly. 

“Yes,” she said, quietly. “ I have felt day by day, Arthur, that I 
liked him more and more. It was and is a wonder to me at my age ; 
but I should not be honest if I did not own that I liked him.” 

“ It is very strange, Mary,” said the curate, softly. 

“ Y’es, it is very strange,” she said ; “ and as I think of it all, I am 
obliged to own to myself, that after all I should have liked to be 
married. It is such a revival of the past.” 

The curate nodded his head several times as he let himself sink down 
upon the greenhouse steps, resting his hands upon his knees. 

“But it is all past now, Arthur,” said the lady quickly, and the tears 
were in her eyes, “we are both too old, my dear brother ; and as soon 
as these visitors are gone, we will forget all disturbing influences, and 
go back to our happy old humdrum life.” 

She could not trust herself to say more, but hurried off to her room, 
leaving the Reverend Arthur gazing fixedly at the red-brick floor. 

“ We are too old,” ho muttered softly, from time to time; and as ho 
said those words t^ere seemed to stand before him the tall, well- 
developed figure of a dark-eyed, beauteous woman, who was gazing at 
him softly from between her half-closed, heavily-fringed lids. 

“ We are too old,” he said again ; and then he went on dreaming of 
that day’s drive, and Helen’s gentle farewell — of the walks they had 
had in his garden — the flowers she had taken from his hand. Lastly, 
of his sister’s words respecting disturbing influences, and then settling 
down to their own happy humdrum life once again. 

“It is fate!” he said, at last — “fate. Can we bring back the 
past ? ” 

He felt that he could not, even as his sister felt just then, as she 
knelt beside one of the chairs in her own sweet-scented room, and asked 
for strength, as she termed it, to fight against this temptation. 

“No,” she cried, at last; “I cannot — I will not I For Arthur’s 
sake I will be firm.” 


A DIFFICULTY SOLVED. 


39 


CHAPTER XI. 

A DIFFICULTY SOLVED. 

A WEEK passed, during which all had been very quiet at the Rectory, 
brother and sister meeting each other hour by hour in a kind of 
saddened calm. The Reverend Arthur was paler than usual, almost 
cadaverous, while there was a troubled, anxious look in little Miss 
Rosebury’s eyes, and a sharpness in her voice that was not there on the 
day when Dr. Bolter proposed. 

No news had been heard of the young ladies at Miss Twettenham’s ; 
and Dr. Bolter, to Miss Rosebury’s sorrow, had not written to her 
brother. 

But she bravely fought down her suffering, busying herself with 
more than usual zeal in home and parish ; while the Reverend Arthur 
came back evening after evening faint, weary, and haggard, from some 
long botanical ramble. 

The eighth day had arrived, and towards noon little Miss Rosebury 
was quietly seated by the open window with her work fallen upon her 
knee, and a sad expression in her eyes as she gazed wistfully along the 
road, thinking, truth to tell, that Dr. Bolter might perhaps come in to 
their early dinner. 

Doctors were so seldom ill, or perhaps he might be lying suffering at 
some hoiel. 

The thought sent a pang through the little body, making her start, 
and seizing her needle, begin to work, when a warm flush came into her 
cheeks as she heard at one and the same time the noise of wheels, and a 
slow, heavy step upon the gravel. 

The step she well knew, and for a few moments she did not look up ; 
but when she did she uttered an exclamation. 

“Tut — tut — tut ! ” she said. “ If anyone saw poor Arthur now they 
would think him mad.” 

Certainly the long, gaunt flgure of the Reverend Arthur Rosebury, 
in his soft, shapeless felt hat, and long, clinging, shabby black alpaca 
coat, was very suggestive of his being a kind of male Ophelia gone 
slightly distraught as the consequence of a disappointment in love. 

For in the heat of a long walk the tie of his white cravat had gone 
round towards the nape of his neck, while his felt hat was decorated 
to the crown with butterflies secured to it by pins. The band had 
wild flowers and herbs tucked in here and there. His umbrella — 
a very shabby, baggy gingham — was closed and stuffed with botanical 
treasures; and his vasculum, slung beneath one arm, was so gorged 
with herbs and flowers of the field that it would not close. 

He was coming slowly down the path as wheels stopped at the gate 
just out of sight from the "window, where little Miss Rosebury sat with 
her head once more bent down over her work; but she could hear a 
quick, well-known voice speaking to the driver of the station fly ; then 
there was the click of the latch as the gate swung to, and. the little 
lady’s heart began to go pat, pat — pat, pat — much faster than the quick, 
decided step that she heard coming down the long gravel path. 


40 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Her hearing seemed to he abnormally quickened, and she listened to 
the wheels as the fly drove off, and then heard every word as the doctor’s 
quick, decided voice saluted his old friend. 

“Been horribly busy, Arthur,” he cried; “but I’m down at last. 
Where’s Mary ? ” 

Hiding behind the curtain, for she had drawn back to place her hand 
upon her side to try and control the agitated beating of her foolish 
little heart. 

“Oh, it is dreadful ! How can I be so weak? ” she cried, angrily, as 
she made a brave effort to be calm — a calmness swept away by the 
entrance of the doctor, who rushed in boisterously to seize her hands, 
and before she could repel him, he had kissed her heartily. 

“ Eureka ! my dear Mary ! Eureka ! ” ho cried. “ I have it — I have 
it!” 

“ Henry — Dr. Bolter! ” she cried, with a decidedly dignified look in 
her pleasant face. 

“ Don’t be angry with me, my dear,” he cried ; “ the news is so good. 
You couldn’t leave poor Arthur, could you ? ” 

“ No ! ” she cried, with an angry little stamp, as she mentally up- 
braided him for tearing open the throbbing wound she was striving to 
heal. “ You know I will not leave him.” 

“ I love and honour you for it more and more, my dear,” he cried. 
“ But what do you think of this ? Suppose we take him with us? ” 

“ Take him with ns ? ” said the little lady, slowly. 

“Yes,” cried the doctor, excitedly; “take him with us, Mary — 
my darling wife that is to be. The chaplaincy of our settlement is 
vacant. Did you ever hear the like ? ” 

Little Miss Kosebury could only stare at the excited doctor in a 
troubled way, for she understood him now, though her lips refused to 
speak. 

“Yes, and I am one of the first to learn the news. I can work it, I 
feel sure, if he’ll come. Then only think ; lovely climate, glorious 
botanical collecting trips for him ! The land, too, whence Solomon’s 
ships brought gold and apes and peacocks. Ophir, Mary, Ophir 1 
Arthur will be delighted.” 

“ Indeed ! ” said that lady wonderingly . 

“ Not a doubt about it, my dear. My own discovery. All live to- 
gether ! Happiness itself.” 

“ But Arthur is delicate,” she faltered. “ The station is unhealthy.” 

“Am not I there? Do I not understand your brother thoroughly? 
Oh ! my dear Mary, do not raise obstacles in the way. It is fate. I 
know it is, in the shape of our Political Resident Harley. He came 
over with me, and goes back in the same boat. He has had telegrams 
from the station.” 

“You — ^you take away my breath, doctor,” panted the little lady. 
“ I must have time to think. Oh ! no, no, no ; it is impossible. 
Arthur would never consent to go.” 

“ If you will promise to bo my wife, Mary, I’ll make him go ! ” cried 
the doctor, excitedly. 

“ No, no ; he never would. He could not give up his position here, 


PLAYING THE CAKD. 


41 


and I should not allow him. It would be too cruelly selfish on my 
part. It is impossible ; it can never be.” 

The next moment the doctor was alone, for Miss Eosebury had 
hurried out to go and sob passionately as a girl in her own room, 
waking up more and more, as she did, to the fact that she had taken the 
love-distemper late in life; but it was none the weaker for being 
long delayed. 

“It isn’t impossible, my dear,” chuckled the doctor, as he rubbed his 
hands; “and if I know anything of womankind, the darling little 
body’s mine. I hope she won’t think I want her bit of money, because 
I don’t.” 

He took a turn up and down' the room, rubbing his hands and smiling 
in a very satisfied way. 

“ I think I can work Master Arthur,” he said. “ He’ll be delighted 
at the picture I shall paint him of our flora and fauna. It will be a 
treat for him, and we shall be as jolly as can be. We’ll see about duty 
and that sort of thing. Why, it will be a better post for him ever so 
much, and he’s a splendid old fellow.” 

There was another promenade of the room, greatly to the endanger- 
ment of Miss Eosebury’s ornaments. Then the doctor slapped one of 
his legs loudly. 

“ Capital ! ” he cried. “ What a grand thought ! What a card to play ! 
That will carry her by storm. I’ll play that card at our next interview ; 
but genily, Bolter, my boy, don’t be in too great a hurry ! She’s a 
splendid specimen, and you must not lose her by being precipitate ; 
but, by Jove ! what a capital thought — tell her it will be quite an act 
of duty to come with me and act a mother’s part to those two girls.” 

“ She’ll do it — she’ll do it,” he cried, after a pause, “for she quite 
loves little Gray, and a very nice little girl too. Then it will keep 
that dark beauty out of mischief, for hang me if I think I could get her 
over to her father disengaged, and so I told Harley yesterday.” ' 

The doctor did knock off an ornament from a stand at his next turn 
up and down the room, breaking it right in two ; and this brought 
him to his senses, as, full of repentance, he sought the Eeverend Arthur 
Eosebury in his study to act as medium and confess his sin. 


CHAPTEE XII. 

PLAYING THE CARD, 

The Eeverend Arthur had removed the butterflies and wild flowers 
from his hat by the time Hr. Bolter reached him, and was walking 
slowly up and down the study with his hands clasped behind him. 
There was a wrinkled look of trouble in his face. 

As the doctor entered, he smilingly placed a chair for his friend, and 
seemed to make an effort to get rid of the feeling of oppression that 
weighed him down. 

Then they sat and talked of butterflies and birds for a time, fencing 
as it were, for somehow Dr. Bolter felt nervous and ill at ease, shrink- 


42 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


in" from the task which he had set himself, while the Reverend Arthur, 
though burning to ask several questions upon a subject nearest his 
heart, shrank from so doing lest he should expose his wound to his 
friend’s inquisitorial eyes. 

“I declare I’m as weak as a child,” said the doctor to himself, after 
making several vain attempts at beginning. “ It’s dreadfully difficult 
work ! ” and he asked his friend if the lesser copper butterfly was plenti- 
ful in that district. 

“ No,” said the Reverend Arthur, “ we have not chalk enough near 
the surface.” 

Then there w.as a pause — a painful pause — during which the two old 
friends seemed to be fighting hard to break the ice that kept forming 
between them. 

“ I declare I’m much weaker than a child,” said the doctor to him- 
self ; and the subject was the next moment introduced by the Reverend 
Arthur, who, with a guilty aspect and look askant, both misinterpreted 
by the doctor, said, hesitatingly: 

“ Do you know for certain when you go away, Harry ? ” 

“ In three -sveeks, my boy, or a month at most, and there is no time 
to lose in foolish hesitation, is there ? ” 

“ No, of course not. You mean about the subject Mary named ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, of course,” cried the doctor, who was now very hot and 
excited. “ You wouldn’t raise any objection, Arthur? ” 

“ No, I think not, Harry. It would be a terrible loss to me.” 

“ It would — it would.” 

“And I should feel it bitterly at first.” 

“ Of course — of course,” cried the doctor, trying to speak ; but his 
friend went on excitedly. 

‘ ‘ Time back I could not have understood it ; but I am not surprised 
now ! ” 

“ That’s right, my dear Arthur, that’s right ; and I will try and make 
her a good husband.” 

“ She is a very, very good woman, Harry ! ” 

“ The best of women, Arthur, the very best of women ; and it will 
be so nice for those two girls to have her for guide.” 

“ Do — do they go — both go — with you — so soon ? ” said the Reverend 
Arthur, wiping his wet forehead and averting his head. 

“Yes, of course,” said the doctor, eagerly. 

“ And— and does Mary say she will accept you, Harry ? ” 

“No,” said a quick, decided voice. “I told him I could not leave 
you, Arthur;” and the two gentlemen started guiltily fi-om their 
chairs. 

“ My dear Mary,” said the curate, “ how you startled me.” 

“I have not had time to tell him yet,” said the doctor, recovering 
himself ; and taking the little lady’s hand, he led her to the chair he 
had vacated, closed the door, and then stood between brother and 
sister. “ I have not had time to tell him yet, my dear Miss Rosebury, 
but I have been saying to him that it would be so satisfactory for yoa 
to help me in my charge of those two young ladies.” 

Miss Rosebury started in turn, and coloured slightly. 


PLAYING THE GAUD. 


43 


“And now, my dear old friend,” said the doctor, “ let me ask you, 
treating you as Mary’s nearest relative, will you give your consent to 
our marriage ? ” 

“No, Arthur, you cannot,” said the little lady, firmly. “I could 
not leave you.” 

“But I have an offer to make you, my dear old friend,” said the 
doctor ; “ the chaplaincy at our station is vacant ; will you come out 
with us and take it ? There will be no separation then, and ” 

He stopped short, for at his woi’ds the Beverend Arthur seemed to 
bo galvanized into a new life. He started from his seat, the listless, 
saddened aspect dropped away, his eyes fiashed, and the blood mounted 
to his cheeks. 

“ Come with you ? ” he cried. “ Chaplaincy ? Out there ? ” 

It seemed as if he had been blinded by the prospect, for the next 
moment he covered his face with his hands, and sank back into his seat 
without a word. 

“ I knew it ! ” cried little Miss Eosebury, in reproachful tones ; and, 
leaving her chair, she clung to her brother’s arm. “I told you he 
could not break up his old home here. No, no, Arthur, dear Arthur ; 
it is all a foolish dream! Ido not wish to leave you — I could not 
leave you. Henry Bolter, pray — pray go,” she said, piteously, as she 
turned to the doctor. “We both love you dearly as our truest friend ; 
but you place upon us burdens that we cannot bear. Oh, why — why 
did you come to thus disturb our peace ? Arthur, dear brother, I will 
not go away ! ” 

“Hush! hush, Mary!” the curate said, from behind his hands. 

Let me think. You do not know. I cannot bear it yet I ” 

“My dear old Arthur,” began the doctor. 

“ Let me think, Harry, let me think,” he said, softly. 

“ No, no, don’t think ! ” cried the little lady, almost angrily. “ You 
shall not sacrifice yourself for my sake ! I will not be the means 
of dragging you from your peaceful happy home — the home you 
love — and from the people who love you for your gentle ways ! 
Henry Bolter, am I to think you cruel and selfish instead of our kind 
old friend ? ” 

“ No, no, my dear Mary ! ” cried the doctor, excitedly. “ Selfish ? 
Well, perhaps I am, but ” 

“ Hush ! ” said the curate, softly ; and again, “ lot mo think.” ^ 

A silence fell upon the little group, and the chirping of the birds in 
the pleasant country garden was all that broke that silence for many 
minutes to come. 

Then the Eeverend Arthur rose from his seat and moved towards the 
door, motioning to them not to follow him as he went out into the 
garden, and they saw him from the window go up and down the walks, 
as if communing with all his familiar friends, asking, as it were, their 
counsel in his time of trial. 

At last he came slowly back into the room, where the elderly lovers 
had been seated in silence, neither daring to break the spell that was 
upon them, feeling as they did how their future depended upon the 
brother’s words. 


44 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


They loolced at him wonderingly as he came into the room pale and 
agitated, as if suffering from the reaction of a mental struggle ; but 
there was a smile of great sweetness upon his lips as he said, softly : 

“Harry, old friend, I never had a brother. You will be really 
brother to me now.” 

*‘ No, no ! ” cried his sister, excitedly. “ You shall not sacrifice 
yourself like this ! ” 

“Hush, dear Mary,” he replied, calmly; “let me disabuse your 
mind. You confessed to me your love for Harry Bolter here. Why 
should I stand in the way of your happiness ? ” 

‘ ‘ Because it would half kill you to be left alone.” 

“But I shall not be left alone,” he cried, excitedly. “I shall 
bitterly regret parting from this dear old home ; but I .am not so old 
that I could not make another in a foreign laud.” 

“ Oh ! Henry Bolter,” protested the little lady, “ it must not be ! ” 

“ But it must,” said her brother, taking her in his arms, and kissing 
her tenderly. “ There are other reasons, Mary, why I should like to 
go. I need not explain what those reasons are ; but I tell you honestly 
that I should like to see this distant land.” 

“Where natural history runs mad, Arthur,” cried the doctor, ex- 
citedly. “ Hurrah ! ” 

“ Oh, Arthur ! ” cried his sister, “ you cannot mean it. It is to please 
me. 

“ And myself,” he said, quietly. “There: I am in sober earnest, 
and I tell you that no greater pleasure could be mine than to see you 
two one.” 

“ At the cost of your misery, Arthur.” 

“ To the giving of endless pleasure to your husband and my brother,” 
said the Reverend Arthur, smiling ; and before she could thoroughly 
realize the fact, little quiet Miss Mary Rosebury was sobbing on the 
doctor’s breast. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

ON THE VOYAGE. 

In these busy days of rail and steam, supplemented by their quick 
young brother electricity, time seems to go so fast that before the 
p.arties to this story had thoroughly realized the fact another month 
had slipped by, another week had been added to that month, the 
Ch.annel had been crossed, then France by train, and at Marseilles the 
travellers had stepped on board one of the steamers of the French com- 
pany, the Messageries Maritimes, bound for Alexandria, Aden, Colombo, 
Penang, and then, on her onward voyage to Singapore and Hong Kong, 
to drop a certain group of her passengers at the mouth of the Darak 
river, up which they would be conveyed by Government steamer to 
Sindang, the settlement where Mr. Harley, Her Britannic Majesty’s 
Resident at the barbaric court of the petty Malay Rajah-Sultan Murad, 
had the guidance of affairs. 


ON THE VOYAGE. 


45 


It vas one of those delicious, calm evenings of the South, -vrlth the 
purple waters of the tideless Mediterranean being rapidly turned into 
orange and gold. Away on the left could be seen, faintly pencilled 
against the sky, the distant outlines of the mountains that shelter the 
Jtiviera from the northern winds. To the right all was gold, and 
purple, and orange sea ; and the group seated about the deck enjoying 
the comparative coolness of the evening knew that long before daybreak 
the next morning they would be far out of sight of land. 

There was a large number of passengers : for the most part English 
officials and their families returning from leave of absence to the 
various stations in the far East ; and as they were grouped about the 
spacious quarter-deck of the sumptuously-fitted steamer rapidly plough- 
ing its way through the sun-dyed waters, the scene was as bright and 
animated as painter could depict. 

Gentlemen were lounging, smoking, or making attempts to catch the 
fish that played about the vessel’s sides without the slightest success ; 
ladies w'ere seated here and there, or promenading the deck, while 
other groups were conversing in low tones as they drank in the soft, 
sensuous air, and wondered how people could be satisfied to exist in dull 
and foggy, sunless England, when nature offered such climes as this. 

“In another half hour. Miss Perowne, I think I shall be able to show 
you a gorgeous sunset, if you will stay on deck.” 

The speaker was a tall, fair man by rights, but long residence in the 
East had burned his skin almost to the complexion of that of a Eed 
Indian. He was apparently about forty, with high forehead, clear-cut 
aquiline features, and the quick, firm, searching look of one accustomed 
to command and master men. 

He took off his puggree-covered straw hat as he spoke, to let the cool 
breeze play through his hair, which was crisp and short, but growing 
so thin and sparse upon the top that partings were already made by 
time, and he would have been looked upon by every West-end haii*- 
dresser as a suitable object to bo supplied with nostrums and capillary 
regenerators galore. 

“ Are the sunsets here very fine ? ” said Helen, languidly, as she lay 
back in a cane chair listlessly gazing through her half-closed eyes at 
the glittering water that foamed astern, ever widening away from the 
churning of the huge propeller of the ship. 

“Very grand some of them, but nothing to those we shall show you 
in the water-charged atmosphere close to the equator. Ah, Miss 
Stuart, come here and stop to see the sunset. You grieve mo, my 
child,” he added, smiling, and showing his white teeth. 

“ Grieve you, Mr. Harley, why ? ” said Gray, smiling. 

“ Because I feel as if I were partner in the crime of taking you out 
to Sindang to turn that fair complexion of yours brown.’’ 

“ Gray Stuart is very careless about such things,” said Helen, with 
languid pettishness. “ How insufferably hot it is ! ” 

“Well,” said Mr. Harley, laughing, “you are almost queen here 
already. Miss Perowne; everyone seems to constitute himself your 
slave. Shall we arm ourselves with punkahs, and 'waft sw'cet southern 
gales to your fair cheeks ? ” 


4G 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Here ! Hi, Harley ! ” cried the brisk voice of Dr. Bolter from the 
forward part of the vessel. 

“ 'Tis the voice of the male turtle-dove,” said Mr. Harley, laughing. 
“ He is separated from his mate. Have I your permission to go, fair 
queen ? ” 

Helen’s eyes opened widely for a moment, and she darted an angry 
look at the speaker before turning away with an imperious gesture, 
when, with a meaning smile upon his lip, Neil Harley, Her Britannic 
Majesty’s Political Resident at Sindang, walked forward. 

“That unan irritates me,” said Helen, in a low, angry voice. “1 
began by disliking him ; I declare I hate him now ! ” 

“Is it not because you both try to say sharp-edged words to each 
other, Helen ? ” said Cray Stuart, seating herself by her schoolfellow’s 
side, and beginning to work. “Mr. Harley is always very kind and 
nice to me.” 

“ Pah ! He treats you like a child ! ” said Helen, contemptuously. 

“Well,” said Gray, smiling in her companion’s face, “I suppose 1 
am a child to him. Here comes Mr. Rosebury. ” 

“ I wish Mr. Rosebury were back in England,” said Helen, petulantly. 
“ He w'earies me with his constant talk about the beauties of nature. 
I wish this dreadful voyage were over ! ” 

“And W'e have hardly begun it, Helen,” said Gray, quietly; but 
noticing that her companion’s face W'as flushed, she said, anxiously, 
“ Are you unwell, dear ? ” 

“Unwell? No.”^ 

There was something strange in Helen’s behaviour, but she had the 
skill to conceal it, as the newly-appointed chaplain of Sindang came 
slowly up and began to talk to Helen in his dry, measured way, trying 
to draw her attention to the beauty of the evening, but without avail, 
for she seemed distraite, and her answers were sometimes far from 
pertinent to the subject in question. 

Just then Mrs. Doctor Bolter came bustling up, looking bright, eager, 
and full of animation. 

She darted an uneasy look at her brother, and another at Helen, 
which was returned by one full of indifference, almost deflance, as if 
resenting the little lady’s way, and Mrs. Bolter turned to Gray Stuart. 

“ Where is my husband, my dear ? ” she said. “ I declare this ship 
is so big that people are all getting lost ! Oh ! here he comes ! Now 
there — just as if there were no sailors to do it — he must be carrying 
pails of water ! ” 

For the little doctor came panting along with a bucket of water in 
each hand, the Resident walking by his side till the two vessels were 
plumped down in front of Helen’s chair. 

“ Now, my dear Harry, what are you doing ? ” began the little lady, 
in tones of remonstrance. 

“All right, my dear. Two pails full of freshly-dipped sea water. 
Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will close round, I will show you 
some of the marvels of creation.” 

As quite a little crowd began to collect, many being ladies, at whom 
the little doctor’s wife — only a few days back elderly Miss Rosebury — 


A TEOUBLESOME CHAEGE. 


47 


directed very sharp, searcliing glances, especially when they spoke to 
her husband, Helen rose with a look of annoyance from her chair and 
began to walk forward. 

JShe was hesitating about going farther alone, when a low voice by 
her ear said, softly : 

“ Thank you. Miss Perowne. Suppose you take my arm? We will 
walk forward into the bows.” 

“ Mr. Harley ! ” said the lady, drawing back with her eyes full of 
indignation, 

“ i think I was to show you the beauty of the sunset,” he said. 
“ We can see it so much better from the bows, and,” he added, mean- 
ingly, “ I shall have so much better an opportunity to say that which 
I wish to say.” 

“ What you wish to say, Mr. Harley ? ” 

“ Yes,” he replied, taking her hand, drawing it quickly through his 
arm, and leading her down the steps. 

“ I wish to return, Mr. Harley,” she said, imperiously. 

“ You shall return, my dear young lady, when I have said that which 
I wish to say. ” 

“ What you wish to say to me ? ” she said, haughtily. 

** That which your eyes have been asking me if I could say, ever 
since wo met a fortnight ago, Helen, and that which I have determined 
to say while there is time.? 

Helen Perowne shrank away, but there was a power of will in her 
companion that seemed to subdue her, and in spite of herself she was 
led to the forward part of the vessel, just as the sun had dipped below 
the horizon ; the heavens were lit up like the sea with a gorgeous blaze 
of orange, purple, green, and gold; and little Mrs. Doctor Bolter 
exclaimed : 

“ That wicked, coquettish girl away again ! Gray Stuart, my dear, 
where has your schoolfellow gone ? ’’ 


CHAPTEE XIY. 

A TEOUBLESOME CIIAEOE. 

Neil Harley, in spite of his strong power of will, had said but very 
few words to Helen Perowne before little Mrs. Doctor Bolter bustled 
up. 

Oh, Ml’. Harley ! ” she exclaimed, “ you have carried off my 
charge.” 

“ Yes,” he replied, smiling pleasantly ; “ we came forward to have a 
good view of the sunset.” 

“ Because you could see it so much better at the other end ? ” said 
Mrs. Bolter, drily. 

“No; but because we could see it uninterruptedly,” replied the 
Eesident, coolly. 

“Oh DO, you could not, Mr. Harley,” continued the little lady, 

4 


48 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ because you see I have come to interrupt your ttte-a-Ute. Helen, 
my dear, will you coir.e back and join us on the other deck ? ” 

“To be sure she will, my dear Mrs, Bolter, and I shall come too. 
There, mind those ropes. That’s better. What a glorious evening ! 
I hope I am to have the pleasure of showing you ladies many that are 
far more beautiful on the Darak river.” 

Little Ml’S. Bolter looked up at him meaningly ; but the Hesident’s 
eyes did not flinch ; he only gave her a quiet nod in reply, and they 
climbed once more to the quarter-deck, where, in preparation for the 
coming darkness, the sailors were busily hanging lamps. 

They had no sooner reached the group of people around Dr. Bolter, 
than, as if to revenge herself for the annoyance to which she had been 
subjected, Helen disengaged her hand, walked quickly up to the 
Eeverend Arthur, and began to talk to him in a low earnest voice, 

“If she would only keep aw’ay from poor Arthur,” muttered the 
little lady, “I would not care — she is making him infatuated. And 
now there’s Henry talking to that thin, dark lady again. I wish he 
would not talk so much to her.” 

“ Married late in life,” said the Resident, quietly, as he lit a cigar ; 
“ but she seems to have her share of jealousy. She’s a dear, good little 
woman, though, all the same.” 

He walked to the side watching Helen W’here she stood beneath one 
of the newdy lit lamps, looking very attractive in the faint reflected 
rays of the sunset mingled with those shed down from above upon her 
glossy hair. 

“ Why does she go so much to gossip with that chaplain ? If it is to 
pique me it is labour in vain, for I have not a soupqon of jealousy in 
my composition. She is very beautiful and she knows it too. What a 
head and neck, and what speaking eyes ! ” 

He stood smoking for a few minutes and then ■went on : 

“ Speaking eyes ? Yes, they are indeed. It is no fancy, but it 
seems to have been to lead me on ; and as I judge her, perhaps wrong- 
fully, she loves to drag every man she sees in her train. Well, she 
has made a mistake this time if she thinks she is going to play with 
me. I feel ashamed of myself sometimes when I think of how easily I 
let her noose me, but it is done.” 

He lit a fresh cigar, and still stood watching Helen. 

“Sometimes,” he continued, “I have called myself idiot for this 
sudden awakening of a passion that I thought dead ; but no, the man 
who receives encouragement from a woman like that is no idiot. It is 
the natural consequence that he should love her.” 

Just then three or four of the passengers, officers and civil officials, 
sauntered iip to Helen, and after the first few words she joined with 
animation in the conversation ; but not without darting a quick glance 
once or twice in the Resident’s direction. 

“ No,” he said, softly ; “ the man who, receiving encouragement, 
becomes deeply in love with you, fair Helen, is no idiot, but very 
appreciative, for you are a beautiful girl, and very fond of ad- 
miration.” 

He did not move, but still watched the girl, who began to stand out 


A TROUBLESOME CHARGE. 


49 


clearly against the lamp-light now, more attractive than he had ever 
Been her. 

“ Yes,” he said ; “ yon may flirt and coquet to your heart’s content, 
hut it will have no effect upon me, my child. I don’t think I am a 
conceited man, but I know I am strong, and have a will. Let me see, 
I have known you since I went down, at Bolter’s request, to be his best 
man at the wedding, and I had you, my fair bridesmaid, under my 
charge, with the result that you tried to drag me at your c<xr. Well, I 
am caught ; but take care, my child, prisoners are dangerous sometimes, 
and rise and take the captor captive. 

“ Yes,” he continued, “ some day I may hold you struggling against 
my prisoning hands — hands that grasp you tenderly, so that your soft 
plumage may not be ruffled, for it is too beautiful to spoil.” 

Just then there was a sally made by a Erench officer of the vessel, 
and Helen’s silvery laugh rang out. 

“ Yes, your laugh is sweet and thrilling,” he continued, softly, ‘ ‘ No 
doubt it was a brilliant compliment our French friend paid. I don’t 
think I am vain, if I say to myself even that laugh was uttered to pique 
me. It is an arrow that has failed, for I am in a prophetic mood. I 
have seen the maidens of every land almost beneath the sun, and allow- 
ing for savagery, I find them very much the same when they turn 
coquettes. You could not understand my meaning this evening, eh ? 
Well, we shall see. Go on, coquette, and laugh and dance in the sun 
till you are tired. I’ll wait till then. The effervescence and froth of 
the cup will have passed away, and there will be but the sweet, clear 
wine of your w^oman’s nature left for me to drink. I’ll wait till then.” 

Again Helen’s laugh rang out, but the Resident remained unmoved. 

“ Am I a coxcomb— a conceited idiot ? ” he said : then softly, “I hope 
not. Time will prove.” 

“ I don’t care, Harry; I will not have it ! ” 

“But it is only girlish nonsense, my dear.” 

“Then the young ladies in our charge shall not indulge in girlish 
nonsense. It is not becoming. Gray Stuart never gets a cluster of 
young men round her like a queen in a court.” 

“ More fools the young men, my dear,” said the doctor ; “ for Gray 
is really as sweet a maiden as ” 

“Henry!” 

“ Well, really, my dear, I mean it. Hang it, my dear Mary I don’t 
think I mean anything but fatherly feeling towards the child. Hallo, 
Harley ! you there ? Why are you not paying your court yonder ? ” 

“ Because, my dear Bolter, your good lady here has given me one 
severe castigation to-day for the very sin.” 

“ There I think you are wrong, Mary,” said the doctor, quickly ; “ and 
I will say that I wish you, a stable, middle-aged man, and an old friend 
of her father’s, would go and spend more time by her side ; it would 
keep off these buzzing young gnats.” 

“If I said anything unkind, Mr. Harley,” said the little lady, hold- 
ing out her hand, “ please forgive me. I only wisli to help my husband 
to do his duty towards the young lady who is in our charge.” 

“ My dear Mrs. Bolter,” said the Resident, taking the extended 


50 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


hand, “ I only esteem my dear old friend’s -wife the more for the brave 
way in which she behaved. I am sure we shall be the firmest of 
friends ! ” 

• I hope we shall, I am sure,” said the little lady warmly. 

* ‘ What do you say, Bolter ? ” 

“ I know you will,” cried the doctor. “You won’t be able to help 
it, Harley. She is just the brave, true lady we want at the station to 
take the lead and rule the roost. She’ll keep all the ladies in order.” 

“ Now, Henry ! ” 

“But you will, my dear; and I tell you at once that Neil Harley 
here will help you all he can.” 

Five minutes later the doctor and his wife were alone, the former 
being called to account for his very -warm advocacy of Mr. Harley. 

“ Well, my dear, he deserves it all,” said the doctor 

“ But I don’t quite like his behaviour . towards Helen Perowne,” said 
the little lady ; “and now we are upon the subject, Harry, I must say 
that I don’t quite like your conduct towards that girl.” 

The doctor turned, took her hands, held them, and laughed. 

‘ ‘ Why, what a droll little body you are, Mary ! ’* 

“ And why, sir, pray ? ” said the lady, rather sharply. 

“ Four or five months ago, my dear, I don’t believe you knew the 
real meaning of the word love^ and now I honestly believe you are 
finding out the meaning of the yiarH jealousy as well ; but seriously, my 
dear, that girl makes me shiver ! ” 

‘ ‘ Shiver, sir ! Why ? ” 

“ She’s a regular firebrand coming amongst our young men. She’ll 
do no end of mischief. I see it as plain as can be, and I shall have to 
set to as soon as I get home to compound a fresh medicine — pills at 
night, draught in the morning — for the cure of love-sickness. She’ll 
give the lot the complaint. But, you dear, silly little old woman, you 
don’t think that I — oh ! — oh ! come, Mary, Mary, my dear ! ” 

“ Well, there, I don’t think so, Harry.” said the little lady, apolo- 
getically, “ but she is so horribly handsome, and makes such use of 
those dreadful eyes of hers, that it makes me cross when I see the 
gentlemen obeying her lightest beck and call.” 

“ Well, she does lead them about pretty well,” chuckled the doctor. 
“ She’s a handsome girl ! ” 

“ Henry ! ” 

“ Well, my dear. I’ll think she’s ugly as sin if you like.” 

“ And in spite of all you say of Mr. Harley, I don’t think he is be- 
having well. She gave him a few of those looks of hers when he came 
down to our wedding, and he has been following her ever since. I’ve 
watched him ! ” 

“ What a wicked wretch ! ” chuckled the little doctor. Has he 
taken a fancy to a pretty girl, then, and made up his mind to win ? 
Why, he’s as bad as that scoundrel Harry Bolter, who wouldn’t take 
no for an answer, and did not.” 

“ Now, don’t talk nonsense, Henry. This is too serious a subject 
for joking.” 

“ I am as serious as a judge, Polly.” 


A TROUBLESOME CHARGE. 


61 


“WnAT!” 

“Is there anything the matter, ray dear? ’’said the little doctor, 
who was startled by the lady’s energy. 

“ What did you call me, sir ? ” 

“ Polly, my dear ; tender pet name for Mary.” 

“Never again please, dear Henry,” said the little lady. “I don’t 
wish to be too particular, and don’t mind tenderness — I — I — rather 
like it, dear. But do I look like a lady who could be called Polly ? ’’ 

“Then it shall always be Mary, my dear,” said the doctor ; “and I 
won’t joke about serious matters. As to Neil Harley and Helen 
Perowne, you’re quite right ; but ’pon my word, I don’t see why we 
should interfere as long as matters don’t go too far.” 

“I do not agree with you, Henry.” 

“ You have not heard my argument, my dear,” he said taking her 
hand, drawing it through his arm, and walking her up and down the 
deck. “Now look hero, my dear Mary, six months ago you were a 
miserable unbeliever.” 

“ A what ? ”• cried the lady, indignantly. 

“ A miserable unbeliever. You had no faith in its being the duty 
of all ladies to get married ; and I came to your barbarous little village 
and converted you.” 

“ Oh, yes, I had great belief,” said the little lady, quietly. 

“ Well, then, you were waiting for the missionary to come and lead 
your belief the right way. Now then, my dear, don’t you see this? 
Suppose a place where there are a dozen ladies and only one gentleman. 
How many can be married ? ” 

“ Why, only one lady of course,” said Mrs. Doctor. 

“ Exactly, my dear,” said the doctor ; “ but it is a moral certainty 
that the gentleman will be married.” 

“ Well, yes, I suppose so,” replied Mrs. Doctor. 

“ Suppose so ? Why, they’d combine and kill him for an unnatural 
monster if he did not marry one of them,” said the doctor, laughing. 
“ Well, then, my dear, suppose we reverse the case, and take a young 
and very handsome lady to a station in an out-of-the-way part of the 
world, where the proportions are as one to twenty — one lady to twenty 
gentlemen — what is the moral result ? ” 

“ I suppose she would be sure to be married? ” 

“ Exactly, my dear. Well, as our handsome young charge evidently 
thinks a very great deal about love-making ” 

“ A very great deal too much,” said Mrs. Doctor, tartly. 

“ Exactly so, my dear. Well, she is going to such a place. Wliat 
ought we to do ? ” 

“ See of course that she does not make a foolish match.” 

“Ex — actly ! ” cried the doctor. “Well, Harley seems to have 
taken a fancy to her at once. Good man — good position — not too 
old.” 

“ I don’t know,” said the lady, dubiously, “ I don’t quite think they 
would match.” 

“I do,” said the doctor, sharply. “The very man. Plenty of 
firmness. He’s as genial and warm-hearted as a man can be ; but he 


62 


ONE HMD’S MISCHIEF. 


has a will like iron. He’d break in my young madam there ; and, by 

Jove ! ma’am, if I am a judge of woman’s nature ” 

“ Which you are not, sir,” said the lady, sharply. 

“ Well, perhaps not ; but I do say this — if ever there was a Petruchio 
cut out for our handsome, dark-eyed Katherine, then Neil Harley is 
the man ! ” 

“Here, doctor, where are you? Come along ! ” cried the gentleman 
in question. “ Music— music ! Miss Perowne has promised to sing ! ” 
“ Have you been persuading her, Mr. Harley ? ” said the little lady. 
“I? My dear madam, no ! She refused me ; but has been Hstening 
to the blandishments of Captain Lindley ; and — there — she is begin- 
ning. By Jove ! what a voice ! ” 


CHAPTER XV. 

♦ 

LIEUTENANT CIIUMBLEY. 

A RAPID and pleasant voyage, with a touch here and there at the 
various ports, giving the two girls, just fresh from their life of seclu- 
sion, a glance at the strange mixture of nationalities coUected together 
in these pauses of commercial transit. 

It was one continuous scene of interest to Gray Stuart, who was 
never weary of gazing at the hurrying crowds and the strange customs 
of these far-off towns ; while Helen, if persuaded to land, found the 
heat too oppressive, and preferred a cane lounge in the shade of an 
awning, with four or five gentlemen in attendance with fans, iced 
water, or fruit. 

The Resident was constant in his attentions to her, and tried, when- 
ever the steamer put into port, to get her to join some excursion, the 
most notable of which was at Ceylon ; but she invariably refused, 
when he would laughingly turn to Gray and ask her to be his companion. 

Mrs. Doctor looked serious at first ; but, particular as she was, she 
gave way, for the Resident’s behaviour to the bright English girl was 
beyond reproach. 

“You’ll understand Harley better by-and-by,” said the doctor. 
“He’s a very old friend of her father, and he might be the girl’s 
uncle from his way.” 

“ But do you think it would be proper to let her go ? ” said the little 
lady. 

“ I’ll answer for Harley’s conduct, my dear. If ever there was a 
gentleman it is he. Let her go.” 

So Gray often became Neil Harley’s companion in these excursions, 
returning delighted with the wonders of each place ; while the Resident 
was loud in his praises of her quiet, sensible appreciation of all they saw. 

“ She’s a very amiable, sweet, intelligent girl, Mrs. Bolter,” he said 
one evening, as he sat with the doctor and his wife. 

“ Do you think so, Mr. Harley? ” said the lady, drily. 

“ Indeed I do, ma’am,” he replied, “ and I’m very proud to know 
her. ” 

“ Better hook her, Harley,” said the doctor, with a twinkle of the 


LIEUTENANT CHUMBLEY. 


63 


eye, as he saw his wife’s serious, suspicious glances. “Shell be 
caught up like a shot.” 

“ Then I hope you and Mrs. Bolter will help and see that she makes 
no foolish match. I beg her pardon, though,” he added, hastily ; “she 
is not a girl who would do that.” 

“ You are first in the field,” said the doctor, in spite of an ad- 
. lonitory shake of the head from his lady. “ Why not make your 
hay while the sun shines ? ” 

The Resident sat gazing very seriously out at sea, and his voice was 
very low and tender as he replied : 

“ No; Miss Stuart is a young lady for whom I feel just such senti- 
ments as I should presume a man would feel for his bright, intelligent 
child. That is all, Mrs. Bolter,” he said, turning quickly. “ I ought 
to congratulate you upon the warm hold you have upon Miss Gray’s 
affections.” 

He rose then and walked away, with the little doctor’s wife watch- 
ing him intently. 

“Henry,” she said, suddenly, “ that man is either a very fine fellow 
or else he is an arch-hypocrite.” 

“ Well, I’ll vouch he isn’t the ]a.st,” said the doctor, warmly, “for 
I’ve known him ten years, and I’ve had him down twice with very 
severe attacks of fever. I know him by heart. I’ve sounded him 
ail over, heart, lungs, liver: he hasn’t a failing spot in his whole 

“ Bless the man ! ” said Mrs. Doctor, “just as if that had anything 
to do with his character for honesty and truth. Now look there, 
Henry, really I cannot bear it much longer. That girl’s conduct is 
scandalous ? ” 

“ What, Gray Stuart’s ? ” 

“No; absurd! Helen Perowne’s. Why, the young men all seem 
to be mad.” 

“Moths round a candle,” said the doctor. “There, don’t worry 
yourself, my dear, it’s only her w'ay. She loves admiration, and the 
young fellows admire her, so it suits both sides.” 

“ But I don’t like a young lady wdio is under our charge to be so fond 
of admiration.” 

“ Oh, there’s no harm in her. She is one of those ladies who seem to 
have been born to exact attention ; and as there are plenty ready to pay 
toll, why, what does it matter ? ” 

“ It matters a great deal,” said the little lady, indignantly ; “ and no 
good will come of it. One day she is trying to lead Mr. Harley at her 
heels like a lapdog ; the next day it is Captain Bindley ; the next, Mr. 
Adjutant Morris ; then Lieutenant Barlow. Why, she was making 
eyes at Captain Pennelle yesterday at dinner. I declare the girl seems 
quite to infatuate the men, and see if trouble does not come of it.” 

“ Oh, tut ! tut ! Nonsense, my dear, wliat trouble should come? ” 

“ Quarrels, and duels, and that sort of thing.” 

“ Men don’t fight duels now, my dear. Oh, no, don’t you bo uneasy. 
We shall soon be at Sindang now, and then wa can hand your incubus 
over to papa Perowne, and be free of it all.” 


54 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“I shall be very glad, I’m sure,” said the lady. “There, look at 
her. I suppose that’s the last conquest ! ” 

“ Whom do you mean ? ” said the doctor, drovrsily, for he had just 
settled himself for a nap in the yielding cane chair. 

“ That great, -tall young officer, who came on board at Colombo.” 

“ Oh, Chumbley,” said the doctor, looking up and following his wife’s 
eyes to where a great broad-shouldered fellow was bending down talking 
to Helen Perowne, who seemed to be listening eagerly to his words, as 
if on purpose to annoy the half-dozen gentlemen forming her court. 

He was a fine, well-set-up fellow, looking like a lifeguardsman picked 
from among a selection of fair, curly-haired Saxons, and evidently 
flattered by the lady’s notice, he was doing his best to make himself 
agreeable. 

“ You may call it what you like,” said Mrs. Doctor. “I call it 
scandalous ! Here’s the very last arrival in the ship.” 

“ Regularly subjugated,” laughed the doctor. 

“It is nothing to laugh at,” said the lady, indignantly. “ I declare, 

I have a good mind to go and interfere.” 

“ No, no, don’t,” said the doctor, earnestly. “ She means no harm, 
and you may only make a breach between you.” 

“ I don’t care, Henry ; it is for the girl’s sake that I should interfere ; 
and as to a breach, she utterly detests me as it is for what I have said. 
I think she hates me as much as I do her.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Mary, you could not hate anyone ; and as 
to Helen Perowne’s foolish coquetry, it will all settle down into tho 
love of some stout brave fellow.” 

“ Such as that of Lieutenant Chumbley ? ” 

“Perhaps so.” 

“ Well, I hope so, I’m sure. One ought to have a big, strong man to 
keep all the others away, for if ever there was a heartless coquette it is 
she ; and the sooner we can place her in her father’s hands the happier 
I shall be.” ... t 

“ Would you mind whisking a fly off now and then with your 
handkerchief, Mary,” said the little doctor, drowsily, as he settled him- 
self for his nap. 

“ I know there’ll be some mischief come out of it all,” said the little 
lady, as she drove a couple of flies from her husband’s nose. 

“ Only — few days — old Perowne — sure to meet us, and ” 

The handkerchief was kept busily whisking about, for the flies were 
tiresome, and the doctor was fast asleep, only turning restlessly now 
and then, when in her eagerness to watch Helen Perowne and Lieu- 
tenant Chumbley — the young officer coming out to join the regiment 
into which he had exchanged with the hope of getting variety and 
sport — Mrs. Doctor forgot to act as guardian against the flies. 


A DANGEROUS CREATURE, 


55 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A DANGEROUS CREATURE. 

At last Mrs. Bolter’s troubles were, as she said, at an end, for the great 
steamer had transferred a portion of her passengers to the station gun- 
boat at the mouth of the Darak river. Thei*e had been a quick run up 
between the low shores dense with their growth of mangrove and nipah 
palm. The station had been re.ached, and the ladies transferred to the 
arms of their fathers, both waiting anxiously for the coming bo.at upon 
the Residence island, where in close connection with the fort Mr. 
Ilarlej’^’s handsome bungalow had been built. 

Eor the first few days all was excitement at Sindang, for the report 
of the beauty of “old Stuart’s” daughter, and above all that of the 
child of the principal merchant in the place, created quite a furore 
among the officers of the two companies of foot stationed at the fort, 
and the young merchants and civil officers of the place. 

“ It is really a very, very great relief, Henry,” said Mrs. Doctor. 
“ I sleep as easily again now those girls are off my hands. I mean that 
girl ; but really I don’t feel so satisfied as I should like, for though I 
know Helen Perowne to be safe in her father’s charge, I am not at all 
sure that my responsibility has ceased.” 

“ Ah, you must do what you can for the motherless girls, my dear. Eh, 
Arthur ? what do you say ? ” 

“I quite agree with you, Harry,” said the new chaplain, quietly; 
“but the change to here is — is rather confusing at first.” 

“ Oh, you’ll soon settle down, old fellow ; and I say, Mary, my dear, 
it is a bejiutiful place, is it not ? ” 

“ Very, very beautiful indeed,” replied the little lady ; “ but it is 
very hot. ” 

“ Well, say warmish,” said the doctor, chuckling; “but I did not 
deceive you about tliat. You’ll soon get used to it, and you won’t bo 
so ready to bustle about ; you must take it coolly.” 

“ As you do ? ” said Mrs. Doctor, smiling. 

“ As I do ? Oh, I’m the doctor, and here is everyone been getting his 
or her liver out of order during my absence ! My hands are terribly 
full just now ; but we shall soon settle down. How is the church get- 
ting on, Arthur ? ” 

“Slowly, my dear Harry,” said the Reverend Arthur, in his quiet 
way. “They are making the improvements I suggested. Mr. Per- 
owne subscribed handsomely, and Mr. Hailey is supplying more labour ; 
but I’m afraid I was rather negligent this morning, for I strolled away 
towards the woods.” 

“ Jungle, my dear fellow, jungle ! but don’t go again without mo; 
I’m more at home here than you.” 

“But the woods — I mean jungle — looked so beautiful; surely there 
is nothing to fear.” 

“ Not much — with care,” replied the doctor, “ but still there are dan- 


56 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


gers — fever, sunstroke, tigers, crocodiles, poisonous serpents, venomous 
insects and leeches.” 

“Goodness gracious!” ejaculated Mrs. Doctor. “Arthur, you are 
on no account to go again ! ” 

“ But, my dear Mary ” said the chaplain, meekly. 

“ Now don’t argue, Arthur. I say you are on no account to go 
again ! ” 

“ But really, my dear Mary ” 

“I will listen to no excuse, Arthur. Unless Henry, who under- 
stands the place, accompanies you, I forbid your going again. I hope 
you have not been into any other dangerous place.” 

“ Oh, no, my dear Mary ; I only went and called upon Mr. Porowne.” 
Mrs. Bolter started, and the doctor burst into a roar of laughter. 

“Ha, ha, ha I ” he cried. “Why, my dear boy, that’s a far more 
dangerous place than the jungle.” 

“I — I do not understand you, Henry,” said the chaplain, with a 
faint flush in his cheek. 

“ Not understand me, my dear fellow ! Why, Perowne keeps a most 
ferocious creature there, and it’s loose too.” 

“ Loose ? ” cried Mrs. Doctor, excitedly. 

“ Oh, yes ; I’ve seen it about the grounds, parading up and down on 
the lawn by the river, and in the house as well.” 

“ Gracious me, Henry, the man must be mad ! What is it ? ” cried 
Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Regular tigress — man-eater,” said the doctor. 

“And you allowed your brother-in-law to go there without warning, 
Henry ? Really, I am surprised at you ! ” 

“ Oh ! pooh, pooh ! ” ejaculated the doctor. “ Arthur can take care 
of himself.” 

“ And here have I accepted an invitation for all of us to go there the 
week after next to dinner ! I won’t go. I certainly will not go.” 

“Nonsense, my dear Mary — nonsense!” said the doctor, with his 
eyes twinkling. “We must go. Perowne would be horribly put out 
if we did not.” 

“Now look here, Henry, when I was a maiden lady I never even 
kept a cat or a dog, because I said to myself that live animals about 
a house might be unpleasant to one’s friends. So how do you suppose 
that when I have become a married lady I am going to sanction the 
presence of dangerous monsters in a house ? ” 

“ Oh, but it won’t hurt you,” said the doctor. “ I tell you it’s a 
man-eater. We must go, Mary.” 

“ I certainly must beg of you not to ask me,” said the little lady. 
“ My dear Harry, it gives me great pain to go against your wishes; 
but I could not — I really could not go.” 

“ Not if I assured you it was perfectly safe ? ” 

“ If you gave me that assurance, Henry, I — I think I would go ; for 
I believe you would not deceive me.” 

“ Never,” said the doctor, emphatically. “ Well, I assure you that 
you need not be under the slightest apprehension.” 

“ But is it chained up, Harry ? ” 


A DANGEROUS CREATURE. 


57 


“ Well, no, my dear,” replied the little doctor ; “ they could not very 
■Nvell chain her up. But I was there yesterday though, and I saw that 
Perowne had given her a very handsome chain.” 

“ Then why doesn’t he chain her up ? I shall certainly tell Mr. Per- 
owne that he ought. That comes of the poor man having no wife and 
living out in these savage parts. Really, Henry, I don’t think we 
ought to go.” 

“Oh! pooh, pooh — nonsense, my dear! You’ve nothing to mind. 
I’m not afraid of her. I’ll take care of you.” 

“ I know you are very good, and bravo, and strong, Harry,” said 
the little lady, smiling, “and if you say it is safe I will go, for I do 
trust in your knowledge, and — there, now, I declare I am quite angry ! 
You are laughing, sir ! I’m sure there is some trick ! ” 

“ Trick ? What trick ? ” cried the doctor, chuckling. 

“ Do you mean to tell me, sir, that Mr. Perowne has a wild tigress 
running about his place ? ” 

“ Oh, no ; I never said a -wild tigress — did I, Arthur ? ” 

“I — I did not quite hear what you said, Henry,” replied the chap- 
lain. 

“ You said a dangerous creature — a sort of tigress, sir.” 

“ Right, so I did ; and so he has.” 

“ What is it, then ? ” said Mrs. Doctor, very sharply. 

“A handsome young woman,” chuckled the doctor — “ his daughter 
Helen.” 

“ Now, Henry, I do declare that you are insufferable ! ” cried Mrs. 
Doctor, angrily, as her brother rose softly, walked to the window of 
the pretty palm-thatched bungalow, and stood gazing out at the bright 
flowers with which the doctor had surrounded his place. 

“Well, it’s true enough,” chuckled the doctor. “ I never saw such 
a girl in my life. She has had that great fellow Chumbley hanging 
after her for weeks, and now ” 

“ And now what, sir ? ” 

Perhaps it was the wind, but certainly just then there was a sound 
as of a faint sigh from somewhere by the window, and it seemed as if 
the chaplain was recalling the past days of repose at his little home 
near Mayleyfield, and wondei'ing whether he had done right to come ; 
but no one heeded him, and the doctor went on : 

“ Now she seems to have lassoed young Hilton.” 

“ What, Captain Hilton ? ” 

“ Yes, my dear, with a silken lasso ; and he is all devotion.” 

“ Henry, you astound me ! ” cried Mrs. Doctor. “ Why, I thought 
that Mr. Harley meant something there.” 

“So did I,” said the doctor, “but it seems all off. Harley and 
Chumbley cashiered, vice Hilton — the reigning hero of the day.” 

‘ ‘ Of the day indeed ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Doctor. “ I never did see 
such a girl. It is dreadful.” 

“ And yet you scolded me for calling her a dangerous creature.” 

“ Well, I must own that she is, Henry, said Mrs. Doctor ; and once 
more there was a faint sigh by the window. 

‘ ‘ She’s a regular man-trap, my dear, and practises with her eyes 


58 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


upon everyone she sees. I don’t think even her great-grandfather 
would be safe. She actually smiled at me yesterday.” 

“ What ? ” cried the little lady. 

Porowne sent for me, you know.” 

Yes, of course, I remember. Go on, Henry.” 

“ They’d been out together — she wanted to see the Residency island 
• — and then nothing would do but she must have a walk in the jungle : 
and then, I don’t know whether she began making eyes at the leeches, 
but half a dozen fastened upon her of course.” 

“ Why of course, sir ? ” 

“ Because she went out walking in ridiculous high-heeled low shoes, 
with fancy stockings.” 

“Well, Henry, how tiresomely prolix you are ! ” 

“ Well, that’s all, my dear, only that the leeches fastened on her feet 
and ankles.” 

“ And did Mr. Perowne send for you to take them off ? ” 

“Well, not exactly, my dear, they pulled them off themselves; but 
one bite would not stop bleeding, and I had to apply a little pad on the 
instep — wonderfully pretty little ankles and insteps, my dear, when 
the stockings are off.” 

“Doctor Bolter! ” exclaimed the little lady in so severe a tone of 
voice that the siibject of Helen Perowne was dismissed, and the culprit 
allowed to go to his little surgery to sec to the compounding of some 
medicines necessary for his sick. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

DOCTOR bolter’s THEORY. 

In a little Eastern settlement, in spite of feelings of caste, the Euro- 
peans are so few that rules of society are to a certain extent set aside, 
so that people mix to a greater degree than in larger towns. In spite 
of her rather particular, and, to be truthful, rather sharp, old-maidish 
ways, Mrs. Bolter soon found herself heartily welcomed by all, and 
readily accorded, as the doctor’s wife, almost a leading position in the 
place. 

This position would by rights have been given to the wife of the 
principal merchant, but Mr. Perowne had lost his wife when Helen was 
very young; and Isaac Stuart — “Old Stuart,” as he wns generally 
called — was no better off, his daughter Gray having been left mother- 
less at a very early age. 

The idea of Mr. Perowne was that upon his daughter joining him she 
party should take the lead and give receptions ; and to this end the first 
Avas arranged, to which Mr. and Mrs. Doctor Bolter and the chaplain 
had been invited, the time rapidly coming round, and the guests as- 
sembling at Mr. Perowne’s handsome house, where the luxurious dinner, 
served in the most admirable manner by the soft-footed, quiet Chinese 
servants, passed off without a hitch ; and at last, with a smile that 


DE. BOLTEE’S THEOEY. 


69 


seemed to have the effect of being directed at every gentleman at table, 
Helen Perowne rose, and the ladies left the room. 

The conversation soon became general, and then the doctor’s voice 
rose in opposition to a laugh raised against something he had said» 

“ Oh, yes,” he cried, “ laugh and turn everything 1 say into ridicule ; 

I can bear it. I have not been out all these years in the jungle for 
nothing.” 

‘ ‘ Does Mrs. Bolter approve of your theory, doctor ? ’’ said the Eesi- 
dent. 

“I have not mentioned it to her, sir,” replied the doctor glancing an 
the curtains looped over the open doorway; “ and if you have no ob- 
jection, I will make the communication myself. My journey home and 
my marriage have put it a good deal out of my head. But what I w'ant 
to tell all here is, that the thing is as plain as the nose on your face.” 

Mr. Harley, to whom this was principally addressed, gently stroked 
the bridge of his aquiline nose, half closed his eyes, and smiled in a 
good-humoured way. 

“That’s right,” said the doctor. “Go on unbelieving. Someday 
ril give you the most convincing proofs that what I say is right.” 

“But will Mrs. Bolter approve of your running wild in the jungle 
now you are married ? ” said the Eesident, quietly. 

“Pooh, sir — pooh, sir! My wife is a very sensible little woman, 
isn’t she, A.rthur?” he cried; and the chaplain smiled and bowed be- 
fore lapsing into a dreamy state, and sitting back in his chair, gazing at 
the curtains hanging softly across the open door. 

“Oh, we’re ready enough to believe, doctor,” said the Eesident; 
“ don’t be offended.” 

“ Pooh ! I’m not offended,” exclaimed the doctor. “ All discoverers 
get laughed at till the people are forced to believe. Here, young man, 
you’ve had enough fruit,” he cried sharply, as one of the party stretched 
forth his hand to help himself to the luscious tropic fruits with which 
the table was spread. 

“ What a tyrant you are, doctor,” said the young officer. 

“Here, boy,” cried the doctor, to one of the silent Chinese servants 
gliding about the table, “ more ice. — You’re as unbelieving as John 
Chinaman here.” 

“ We’ll believe fast enough, doctor,” said the last speaker; “ but it 
is only fair that we should ask for facts.” 

“ Pacts, Captain Hilton,” said the doctor, turning sharply upon the 
sun-tanned young officer, who, like the rest of the party, was attired in 
white, for the heat of the large, lightly-furnished room was very great, 
“ facts, sir ? What do you want ‘i Haven’t you your Bible, and does 
it not tell you that Solomon’s ships went to Ophir, and brought back 
gold, and apes, and peacocks ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Captain Hilton, “ certainly ; ” and the Eeverend Arthiir 
bowed his head. 

“ Oh, you’ll grant that,” said the little doctor, with a smile of 
triumph and a glance round the table. 

“ Of course,” said the young officer, taking a cigarette. 

“ I say, Doctor,” said the Eesident — “ or no ; J’ll ask your brother- 


60 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


in-la-ve. Mr. Rosebury, did the doctor ventilate his astounding theory 
over in England ? ” 

“ No,” replied the chaplain, smiling, “ I have never heard him pro- 
pound any theory.* 

“ I thought not,” said the Resident. “ Go on, doctor.” 

“ I don’t mind your banter,” said the little doctor, good-humouredly. 

“ Now look here, Captain Hilton, I want to know what more you wish for. 
There’s Malacca due south of where you are sitting, and there lies 
Mount Ophir to the east.” 

“ Rut there is a Mount Ophir in Sumatra,” said Lieutenant Chumb- 
ley, the big, heavy dragoon-looking fellow, who had not yet spoken. 

“ In Sumatra ? ” cried the doctor. “ Rah, sir, bah ! That isn’t 
Solomon’s place at all. I tell you I’ve investigated the whole thing. 
Here’s Ophir east of Malacca, with its old gold workings all about the 
foot of tlie mountain ; there are the apes in the trees — Roy, more ice.” 

“And where are the peacocks? ” drawled Chumbley. 

“ Hark at him ! ” cried the doctor; “he says where are the pea- 
cocks ? Look here, Mr. Chumbley, if you would take a gun, or a 
geologist’s hammer, and exercise your limbs and your understanding, 
instead of dangling about after young ladies ” 

“ Shouldn’t have brought them out, doctor,” drawled the great fellow, 
coolly. 

“ Or say a collecting-box and a cyanide bottle,” continued the doctor, 
“ instead of getting your liver into a torpid state by sitting and lying 
under trees and verandas smoking and learning to chew betel like the 
degraded natives, you would not ask me where are the peacocks ? ” 

“I don’t know where they are, doctor,” said the young man, 
slowly. 

“In the jungle sir, in the jungle, which sw’arms with the lovely 
creatures, and with pheasants too. Pff ! ’tis hot — Roy, more ice ! ” 

“Don’t be so hard on a fellow, doctor,” drawled the lieutenant. 
“ I’m new to the country, and I’ve twice as much body to carry about 
as you have. You’i*e seasoned and tough ; I’m young and tender. So 
the jungle swarms with peacocks, does it ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, swarms,” said the doctor, with asperity. 

“Well,” said Chumbley, languidly, “let it swarm! I knew it 
swarmed with mosquitoes.” 

“ Sir,” said the doctor, contemptuously, as he glanced at the great 
frame of the young officer, “you never exert yourself, and I don’t 
believe, sir, that you know what is going on within a mile of the 
Residency.” 

“ I really don’t believe I do,” said the young man, with a sleepy 
yawn. “ I say, Mr. Perowne, can’t you give us a little more air ? ” 

“My dear Mr. Chumbley,” said the host, a thin, slightly gray, 
rather distingue man, “ every door and window is wide open. Take a 
little more iced cup.” 

“ It makes a fellow wish he were a frog,” drawled the lieutenant. “ I 
should like to go and lie right in the water with only my nose in the 
air.” 

As he spoke he gazed sleepily through his half-closed eyes at the 


DR. BOLTER’S THEORY. 


61 


broad, moonlit river gliding on like so much molten silver, while on 
the farther bank the palms stood up in columns, spreading their great 
fronds like lace against the spangled purple sky. 

Below them, playing amidst the bushes and under-growth that 
fringed the river, it seemed as if nature had sent the surplus of her 
starry millions from sky to earth, for the leaves "were dotted w'ith fire- 
flies scintillating and flashing in every direction. A dense patch of 
darkness would suddenly blaze out with hundreds of soft, lambent 
sparks, then darken again for another patch to be illumined, as the 
wondrous insects played about like magnified productions of the points 
of light that run through well-burned tinder. 

From time to time there would be a faint splash rise from the river, 
and the water rippled in the moonbeams, sounds then well understood 
by the occupants of Mr. Perowne’s dining-room, for as the languid 
lieutenant made another allusion to the pleasure of being a frog, the 
doctor said, laughing : 

“ Try it Chumbley ; you are young and tolerably plump, and it would 
make a vacancy for another sub. The crocodiles would bless you.” 

“ Two natives were carried off last week while bathing on the bank,” 
said a sharp, harsh voice, and a little, thin, dry man who had been 
lying back in an easy-chair with a handkerchief over his head raised him- 
self and passed his glass to be filled with claret and iced w'ater. ‘ ‘ Ilah ! 
Harley,” he continued, with a broad Scotch accent, “ you ought to put 
down crocodiles. What’s the use of our having a Resident if he is not 
to suppress every nuisance in the place? ” 

“ Put down crocodiles, Mr. Stuart, eh ? Rather a task ! ” 

“ Make these idle young officers shoot them then, instead of dangling 
after our daughters. Set Chumbley to work.” 

‘ ‘ The crocodiles never hurt me,” drawled the young man. ‘ ‘ Rather 
ugly, certainly, but they’ve a nice open style of countenance. I like 
hunting and shooting, but I don’t see any fun in making yourself a 
nuisance to everything that runs and flies, as the doctor there does, shoot- 
ing, and skinning, and sticking pins through ’em, and putting them in 
glass cases wdth camphor. I hope you don’t do much of that sort of 
thing, Mr. Rosobury ? ” 

“I? Oh, no,” said the Reverend Arthur, raising his eyes from a 
dreamy contemplation of the doorway, through which a pleasiant 
murmur of female voices came. “I — I am afraid I am guilty as to 
the insects.” 

“But you dmw the line at crocodiles, I suppose? Poor brutes! 
They never had any education, and if you put temptation in their way, 
of course they’ll tumble in.” 

“ And then repent and shed crocodile’s tears,” said Captain Hilton, 
smiling. 

“A vulgar error, sir ! ” said the doctor, sharply. “ Crocodiles have 
no tear-secreting glands.” 

“ They could not wipe their eyes in the water if they had, doctor,” 
said Captain Hilton, men>ily. 

“Of course not, sir,” said the doctor; “ but as I was saying, gentle- 
men, when Solomon’s ships ” 


G2 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ I say, Perowne,” interrupted the little Scotch merchant, in his 
harsh voice, “ hadn’t we better join the ladies ? If Bolter is going to 
ventilate his theory I shall go to sleep.” 

“ I’ve done,” said the doctor, leaning back and thrusting his hands 
into his pockets ; “ but I must say, Stuart, that as an old resident in 
these parts I think you might give a little attention to a fact of great 
historical interest, and one that might lead to a valuable discovery of 
gold. What do you say, Perowne ? ” 

“ I leave such matter’s to you scientific gentlemen,” said 'the host, 
carefully flicking a scrap of cigar ash from his shirt-front. 

“You can’t tempt Perowne,” laughed the little Scot. “He is a 
regular Mount Ophir in himself, and,” he added to himself, “ has a 
flaunting peacock — I mean peahen — of his own.” 

“ Nay, nay, Stuart,” said the host, smiling meaningly; “ I am not 
a rich man.” 

“ Oh, no,” chuckled his brother merchant ; “ he’s as poor as a Jew.” 

Mr. Perowne shook his head at his harsh-voiced guest, glanced round 
suavely, as if asking permission of his guests, and then rose from the 
handsomely-furnished table. 

“ Then we will join the ladies,” he said blandly; and the Chinese 
servants drew aside the light muslin curtains which hung in graceful 
folds over the arched door. 

It was but a few steps across a conservatory, the bright tints of whose 
rich tropical flowers and lustrous sheen of whose leaves were softened 
and subdued by the light of some half-dozen large Chinese lanterns, 
cleverly arranged so as to give the finest effect to the gorgeous plants. 

Here several of the party paused for a few moments to gaze through 
another muslin-draped portal into the drawing-room, whose shaded 
lamps with their heavy silken fringes cast a subdued light upon a group, 
the sight of which had a strange effect upon several of the men. 

There, in the darker part of the beautifully-furnished room, where 
the taste of Paris was mingled with the highest and airiest ornamen- 
tation of the East, sat little Mrs. Doctor very far back in a cane chair 
— wide awake, as she would have declared had anyone spoke, but with 
her mouth open, and a general vacancy of expression upon her coun- 
tenance suggestive of some wonder visible in the land of dreams. 

Close by her, upon a low seat, was Gray Stuart, looking very simple 
and innocent in her diaphanous white dress ; but there was trouble 
in her gentle eyes, and her lips seemed pinched as if with pain, as now 
and then one of her hands left the work upon which she was engaged 
to push back a wave of her thick soft hair. 

She too was partly in shadow ; but as she pushed back the thick fair 
hair, it was possible to see that there were faint lines of care in her 
white forehead, for she too was gazing at the group that had taken the 
attention of the gentlemen leaving their dessert. 

For in the centre of the room, just where the soft glow of one of the 
shaded lamps formed quite a halo round her glistening dark hair, and 
seemed to add lustre to her large, well-shaped eyes, reclined Helen 
Perowne. Her attitude was graceful, and evidently studied for effect. 
One hand rested on the back of the well-stuffed ottoman, so as to dis- 


HELEN PEROWNE AT HOME. 


63 


play the rounded softness of her shapely arm ; while her head was 
thrown back to place at the same advantage her creamy-hued well- 
formed throat, and at the same time to allow its owner to turn her gaze 
from time to time upon the companion standing beside her, grave, 
statuesque, and calm, but with all the fire of his Eastern nature glowing 
in his largo dark eyes, which needed no interpreter to tell the tale they 
told. 

“ A nigger now,” said Lieutenant Chumbley to himself, with a look 
of contempt at the handsome young hostess. “ AVell, there’s no know- 
ing what that girl would do.” 

“ The rajah— the sultan ! ” muttered Captain Hilton, with a furiously- 
jealous look. “ Hoav dare he ! The insolent, dark-skinned cad ! ” 

“Flying at a seat upon an ivory throne in a palm-tree palace, eh, 
Helen?” mused the Resident, wich a quiet smile. “Well, you will 
exhaust them all in time.” 

These thoughts ran through the brains of each of the spectators of 
the little scene within the drawing-room in turn, but only one of the 
dinner-party spoke aloud, and that was in a'low voice in another’s ear. 

It was the little Scotchman, Gray Stuart’s father, W’ho spoke, as he 
laid his hand upon his host’s shoulder. 

“ Perowne, mahn,” he whispered, “ ye’ll have a care there, and speak 
to your lass, for there’ll be the deil’s own mischief, and murder too, if 
she leads that fellow on.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

HELEN PEROWNE AT HOME. 

SuLjAN Murad, who, from the aspect of affairs in Mr. Perowne’s draw- 
ing room, seemed to be the last captive to the bow of Helen’s lips and 
the arrows of her eyes, was one of the rajahs of the Malay peninsula, 
living upon friendly terms with the English, paying allegiance to the 
government and accepting the friendly services of a Political Resident, 
in the shape of Mr. Harley, whose duties were to advise him in his rule, 
to help him in any plans for civilizing and opening out his country ; 
and in exchange for his alliance and friendly offices with neighbouring 
chiefs, who viewed the coming of the English with jealous eyes, the 
rajah was promised the help of the English arms in time of need. As 
an earnest of this promise, a couple of companies of an English foot 
regiment were permanently stationed upon a little island in the river, 
just opposite to Sindang, the principal native town of Jullah, over which 
territory Sultan Murad reigned. 

But the prince only adopted such of the English customs as suited 
his tastes. He had no objection, though a follower of Mahomet, to 
the wines that were introduced, showing a great preference for cham- 
pagne. Our dress he took to at once, making a point of always 
appearing in indigo-blue silk stockings and patent-leather shoes. The 
widest-fronted shirts were spread over his broad breast, and the tail- 
5 


64 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


coat found so much favour that he had to exercise a good deal of self- 
denial to keep himself from appearing all day long in full evening-dress. 

But he had good advisers to help his natural shrewdness, and finding 
that his adoption of our costume found favour with his English allies, 
he adhered to it rigorously, as far as his position as sultan or rajah 
would allow. For there was and is one part of the native dress that 
no Malay will set aside, and that is the sarong, a tartan scarf sewn 
together at the ends and worn in folds around the body, so as to form 
a kilt. 

This article of dress, always a check or plaid of some showy-coloured 
pattern, is worn by every Malay, in silk or cotton, according to his 
station, and in the sash-like folds he always carries his kris, a dangerous- 
looking dagger, that falsely bears the reputation of being smeared along 
its wavy blade with poison. 

A silken kilt and a dagger are rather outH objects for an English 
drawing-room, and looked barbaric and strange as worn by the young 
rajah, whoso evening dress was otherwise in faultless English stylo, 
being in fact the production of a certain tailor of Savile Eow, an artist 
who had been largely patronized by Murad for shooting and morning 
gear, and also for his especial pride, a couple of gorgeous uniforms, some- 
thing between that of a hussar and a field-marshal bound to a review. 

The bad name given to a dog dies hard, and in spite of steam and 
electricity, the idea still lingers in our midst that the Malay is as evil 
as his kris, and that he is a brutal savage, accustomed to put forth from 
his campong in a long row-boat, or prahu, to make a piratical attack 
upon some becalmed vessel. After this it is supposed to be his custom 
to put the crew to death, plunder the ship, and set it on fire as a finish 
to his task. 

Such deeds have been done, for there are roughs amongst the I\Ialays, 
even as there are in civilized England. In bygone days, too, such acts 
were doubtless as common as among our 'border chieftains; but, as a 
rule, the Malays are an educated body of eastern people, professing the 
Mahommedan religion, with an excellent code of laws, punctilious in 
etiquette, and though exceedingly simple in their habits, far from 
wanting in refinement. 

Sultan Murad was unmistakably a prince, handsome in person, and 
naturally of a grave and dignified mien, while since his alliance with 
the English he had become so thoroughly imbued with our habits and 
the ordinary ways of a gentleman as to make him a visitor well worthy 
of Helen’s attention for the time. 

There was something delightful to her vanity in the eastern term 
“sultan,” a title associated in her mind with barbaric splendour, 
showers of diamonds and pearls, cloth of gold, elephants with silver 
howdahs, attended by troops of slaves bearing peacock fans, chowries, 
and palm-leaf punkahs. She saw herself in imagination mounted upon 
some monstrous beast, with a veil of gossamer texture covering her 
face ; a troop of beautiful slaves in attendance, and guards with flashing 
weapons jealously watching on every side the approach of those who 
would dare to sun themselves in her beauty. 

Her thoughts were so pleasant, that in place of the languid air of 


HELEN PEROWNE AT HOME. 


65 


repose in her dark, shaded eyes, they would flash out as she listened 
with a gratified smile to Murad’s eastern compliments and the soft 
deference in his voice. 

He was a real sultan, who, when with the English, adopted their 
customs ; while with his people no doubt he would assume his barbaric 
splendour; and to Helen, fresh as it were from school, and, revelling in 
the joys of her new-born power, there was something delicious in 
finding that she had a real eastern potentate among her slaves. 

The Rajah had been talking to her in his soft, pleasant English for 
some time before the gentlemen left the dining-room. Now Neil Harley 
separated himself from the rest, sauntered across, nodded to the Rajah, 
who drew back, and made a flash dart from the young Malay’s eyes as 
he saw the Resident seat himself in a careless, quite-at-home fashion 
beside the young hostess. 

“ Well, Mad’moiselle Helen,” he whispered, in a half-contemptuous 
tone, ‘ ‘ how many more conquests this week ? ” 

“ I do not understand you, Mr. Harley,” she said, coldly; but he 
noticed that she could hardly manage to contain the annoyance she felt 
at his cavalier manner. 

“ Don’t you ? ” he said, smiling and half closing his eyes. “ As you 
please, most chilling and proud of beauties. What lucky men those 
are who find themselves allowed to bask in the sunshine of your smiles ! 
There, that is the proper, youthful way of expressing it poetically, is it 
not? ” 

“ If you wish to insult me, pray say so, Mr. Harley, and I will at 
once leave the room,” said Helen, in a low voice, as if wishful that the 
Rajah should not hear her words, but making the Malay’s countenance 
lower as he saw the familiar way in which she was addressed. 

“Insult you ? All the saints and good people past and to come for- 
bid ! It is you who, after making me your slave, turn from me, the 
elderly beau, to listen to the voice of our dusky charmer. I don’t 
mind. I am going to chat and listen to little Gray Stuart. I shall bo 
patient, because I know that some day you will return to me cloyed 
with conquests, and say, ‘ Neil Harley, I am yours ! ’ ” 

“ I do not understand you,” she cried, quickly. 

‘'Let me be explicit then,” he. said, mockingly. “Some day the 
fair Helen will come to me and say, with her pretty hands joined 
together, ‘Neil Harley, I am tired of slaying men. I have been very 
wicked, and cruel, and coquettish. I have wounded our chaplain ; I 
have slain red-coated officers ; I have trampled a Malayan sultan 
beneath my feet ; but I know that you have loved me through it all. 
Forgive me and take me ; I am humble now — I am yours ! ’ ” 

- “ Mr. Harley ! ” she exclaimed, indignantly. “How dare you speak 
to me like this in my father’s house ? ” 

As she spoke her eyes seemed to flash with anger, and he ought to 
have quailed before her; but he met her gaze with a calm, mastering 
look, and said, slowly : 

“ Yes, you are very beautiful, and I do not wonder at your triumph 
in your power ; but it is not love, Helen, and some day you will, as I 
tell you, be weary of all this adulation, and think of whal I have said. 


63 


ONE -MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


I am in no hurry ; and of course all this -will be when you have had 
your reign as the most beautiful coquette in the East.” 

“Mr. Harley, if you were not my father’s old friend ” 

“Exactly, my dear child; old friend, who has your father’s wishes 
for my success with his daughter — old friend, who has known you 
by report since a child. I have been waiting for you, my dear, and you 
see I behave with all the familiarity accorded to a man of middle age.” 

“Mr. Harley, your words are insufferable!” said Helen, still in a 
low voice. 

“ You think so now, my dear child. But there : I have done. Don’t 
look so cross and indignant, or our friend the Eajah will be using his 
kris upon me as I go home. I can see his hand playing with it now, 
although ho has it enveloped in the folds of his silken sarong in token 
of peace.” 

• “ I beg you will go,” said Helen, contemptuously ; “ you are keeping 
the Eajah away.” 

“Which would be a pity,” said the Eesident, smiling. “He is a 
very handsome fellow, our friend Murad. ” 

“ I have hardly heeded his looks,” said Helen, weakly ; and then she 
flushed crimson as she saw Mr. Harley’s mocking smile. 

“ Doosid strange, those fellows can’t come into a gentleman’s draw- 
ing-room without their skewers,” said Chumbley, coming up and over- 
hearing the last words. “I say. Miss Perowne, you ought to have 
stayed and heard the doctor give us a lecture on Ophir and Solomon’s 
ships. Capital, wasn’t it, Hilton ? ” 

“Eeally I hardly heard it,” replied the young officer, approaching 
Helen with a smile ; and the Eesident met the lady’s eye, and gave her 
a mocking look, as he rose and made place for the new-comer, who was 
welcomed warmly. “ I was thinking about our hostess, and wondering 
how long it would be before we were to be emancipated from old 
customs and allowed to enter the drawing-room.” 

“ Yes, it is strange how we English cling to our customs, and bring 
them out even to such places as this,” said the lady, letting her eyes 
rest softly upon those of the young officer, and there allowing them to 
stop ; but giving a quick glance the next moment at the Eajah, who, 
with a fixed smile upon his face, was sending lowering looks from one 
to the other of those who seemed to have ousted him aud monopolized 
the lady’s attention. 

“I never felt our customs so tedious as they were to-night,” said 
Captain Hilton, earnestly ; and bending dowm, he began to talk in a 
subdued voice, while the gentlemen proceeded to discuss mercantile 
matters, the probability of the neighbouring Malay princess — the 
Inche Maida — taking to herself a lord; the latest move made by 
the governor; and other matters more or less interesting to the 
younger men. 

At last Chumbley, seeing that Harley was chatting with Gray Stuart, 
crossed over to the doctoi‘’s little lady, who had rather a troubled, un- 
easy look in her pleasant face as she watched her brother, the chaplain, 
hanging about as if to catch a word let drop by Helen now and then. 


SIGNS OF THE TI.^IES. 


C7 


CmiPTER XIX. 

SIGNS OF TIIK TlJirS. 

“Well, Mrs. Colter,” drawled Chiimbley, “who’s going to carry oil 
the prize ? ” 

“ What prize ? ” cried the little lady, sharply. 

“ The fair Helen,” said the young man, with a smile. 

“ You, I should say,” said Mrs. Bolter, with more asperity in her tone. 

“Chaff ! ” said Chumblcy ; and he went on, slowly, “ Won’t do, Mrs. 
Doctor; I’m too slow for her. She had me in silken strings for a week 
like a pet poodle ; but I soon got tired and jealous of seeing her pet 
other puppies instead of me, and I was not allowed to bite them, so ” 

“ W ell ? ” said the doctor’s -wife, for he had stopped. 

“ I snapped the string and ran away, and she has never forgiven mo.” 

“Harry Chumbley,” said the doctor’s wife, shaking her finger at 
him, “ don’t you ever try to make me believe again that you are stupid, 
because, sir, it will not do.” 

“I never pretend to be,” said the young man, with a sluggish laugh. 
“ I’m just as I was made — good, bad and indift'erent. I don’t think I’m 
more stupid than most men. I’m awfully lazy, though — too lazy to 
play the idiot or the lover, or to put up with a tlirting young lady’s 
whims ; but I say, Mrs. Doctor.” 

“ Well ? ” said the lady. 

“I don’t W'ant to be meddlesome,” he drawled, “ but really if I were 
you, being the regular methodical lady of the station, I should speak 
seriously to Helen Perowne about flirting with that nigger.” 

“ Has she been flirting with him to-night ? ” said the lady, eagerly. 

“Awfully,” said Chumbley — “hot and strong. Wo fellows can 
stand it, you know, and if we get led on and then snubbed, why it 
makes us a bit sore, and wo growl and try to lick the place, and — 
there’s an end of it.” 

“ Yes — yes — exactly,” said the lady, thoughtfully. 

“ But it’s my belief,” continued Chumbley, spreading his words out 
so as to cover a good deal of space, while he made himself comfortable 
by stretching out his long legs, lowering himself back, and placing his 
hands under his head — a very ungraceful position, which displayed a 
gap between his vest and the top of his trousers — “it’s my belief, I 
say, that if Beauty there goes on playing with the Beast in his plaid 
sarong, and making his opal eyeballs roll into the idea that she cares 
for him, which she doesn’t a single pip ” 

“ Go on, I’m listening,” said the doctor’s lady. 

“All right — give me time, Mrs. Bolter; but that’s about all I was 
going to say, only that 1 think if she leads him on as she is doing 
now there will not be an end of it. That’s all.” 

“ Well, busy little Gray,” said the Resident, merrily, as he seated 
himself beside the earnest-eyed Scottish maiden, “ what is the new piece 
of needlework now ? ” 

“ Only a bit of embroidery, Mr. Harley,” she replied, giving him a 


C3 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


quick, animated glance, and the look of trouble upon her face passing 
aAvay. 

“ila!” ho said, taking up the piece of 'vrork, and examining it 
intently, “ what a strange thing it is that out in these hot places, while 
we men grow lazier, you ladies become more industrious. Look at 
Chiimbley for instance, he’s growing fatter and slower every day.” 

“ Oh, but he’s very nice, and frank, and natural,” said Gray, with 
animation. 

“Yes,” said the Eesident, “he’s a good fellow. I like Chumbley. 
But look at the work in that embroidery now — thousands and thou- 
sands of stitches. Why what idiots our young fellows are.” 

“ Why, Mr. Harley? ” said the girl, wonderingly. 

“ Why, my child ? Because one or the other of them does not make 
a swoop down and persuade you to let him carry you off.” 

“ Are you all so tired of me already ? ” said Gray, smiling. 

“ Tired of you ? Oh, no, little one, but it seems to me that you are 
such a quiet little mouse that they all forget your very existence.” 

“ I am happy enough with my father, and very glad to join him once 
more, Mr. Harley.” 

“ Happy ? Of course you are ; that seems to me to be your nature. 
I never saw a girl so sweet, and happy, and contented.” 

“Indeed!” said Gray, blushing. “How can I help being happy 
when everyone is so kind ? ” 

“Kind? Why of course. Why, lot me see,” said the Eesident, 
“ how time goes ; what a number of years it seems since I took you to 
England and played papa to you.” 

“ Yes, it does seem a long time ago,” said Gray, musingly. 

“ I never thought that the little girl I petted W’ould ever grow into 
such a beautiful young lady. Perhaps that is why papa Stuart did not 
ask me to bring you back.” 

“Mr. Harley ! ” exclaimed Gray, and a look of pain crossed her face. 

“Why, what have I done ? ” he said. 

“Hurt mo,” she said, simply. “I like so to talk to you that it 
troubles me when you adopt that complimentary style.” 

“Then I won’t do it again, my dear,” he said, earnestly. “Wo 
won’t spoil our old friendship with folly.” 

“How well you remember, Mr. Harley,” said the girl, smiling again. 

“ Eemember ? Of course I do, my dear. Don’t you recollect wdiat 
jolly feeds of preserved ginger and mango you and I used to have ? Ah, 
it was too bad of you to grow up into a little woman ! ” 

“I don’t think we are any the less good friends, Mr, Harley,” said 
the girl, looking trustingly up in his face. 

“ Not a bit,” he said. “ Do you know, my dear, I think more and 
more every day that I am going to grow into a staid old bachelor ; and 
if I do 1 shall have to adopt you as daughter or niece.” 

“ Indeed, Mr. Harley ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, my dear. Nineteen, eh? and I am forty-four. 
Heigho ! how time goes ! ” 

“I had begun to think, Mr. Harley ” said Grav, softly. “ May 

Igoon?” 


SIGNS OF THE TIMES. 


69 


“ Go on ? Of course, my dear. What had you begun to think ? ” 

“ That you would marry Helen.” 

‘‘ Ye — es, several people thought so on ship-board,” he said, dreamily. 
“ Nineteen— twenty -one — forty-four. I’m getting quite an old man 
now, my dear. Hah!” he said, starting, “I daresay Mad’moiselle 
Helen will have plenty of offers.” 

“Yes,” said Gray; “but she should meet with someone firm and 
strong as well as kind.” 

“ Like your humble servant? ” he said, smiling. 

“ Yes,” said Gray, looking ingenuously in his face. “ Helen is very 
sweet and affectionate at heart, only she is so fond of being admired.” 

“ A weakness she will outgrow,” said the Resident, calmly. “ I like 
to hear you talk like that, Gray. Y’'ou are not jealous, then, of the 
court that is paid to her ? ” 

“ I, jealous ? ” said Gray, smiling. “ Do I look so ? ” 

“ Not at all,” said the Resident ; “ not at all. Beauty and fortune, 
they are great attractions for men, my dear, and Helen has both. But, 
my clever little woman, you ought to teach papa to make a fortune.’ 

Gray shook her head. 

“ That’s the thing to do nowadays, like our host has done. Perowne 
is very rich, and if papa Stuart had done as well, we should be having 
plenty of offers for that busy little hand. Yes, a score at your 
feet.” 

“ Where they would not bo wanted,” said the girl, quietly. 

“ Eh ? Not Avanted ? ” said the Resident. “ What, would you not 
like to be worshipped, and hold a court like our fair Helen yonder ? ” 

The girl’s eyes flashed as she glanced in the direction of the ottoman, 
where Captain Hilton was talking in a low, earnest voice to Helen 
Perowne; and then, with a slightly-heightened colour, she went on 
with her work, shaking her head the while. 

“I don’t think I shall believe that,” said the Resident, banteringly; 
but as he spoke she looked up at him so searchingly that even he, the 
middle-aged man of the world, felt disconcerted, and rather welcomed 
the coming of the little rosy-faced doctor, Avho advanced on tiptoe, and 
with a look of mock horror in his face, as he said, softly : 

“Let mo come hero, my dear. Spread one of your dove-wings 
over me to ensure peace. Madam is wroth with her slave, and I dare 
not go near her. ” 

“Why, what have you been doing now, doctor?” said Gray, with 
mock severity. 

“ Heaven knows, my dear. My name is Nor — I mean Henry — but 
it ought to have been Benjamin, for I have always got a mess on hand, 
lots of times as big as anyone else’s mess. I’m a miserable man.” 

Meanwhile the conversation had been continued between the doctor’s 
lady and Chumbley, till the former began to fidget about, to the great 
amusement of the latter, who, knowing the lady’s weakness, lay back 
with half-closed eyes, watching her uneasy glances as they follow’ed 
the doctor, till after a chat here and a chat there, he made his way to 
the couch by Gray Stuart, and began to speak to her, evidently in a 
most earnest way. 


70 


ONE MAID’S MISCniEF. 


“ She’s as .-jealous as a Turk,” said Chumbley to himself ; and he 
tightened his lips to keep from indulging in a smile. 

“ I’m sorry to trouble. you, Mr. Chumbley,” said Mrs. Bolter at last. 

“No trouble, Mrs. Bolter,” ho replied, slowly, though his tone indi- 
cated that it would be a trouble for him to move. 

“ Thank you. I’ll bear in mind what you said about Helen Perowne.” 

“ And that nigger fellow ? Ah, do I ” said Chumbley, suppressing a 
yawn. 

“ Would you mind telling Dr. Bolter I want to speak to him for a 
moment — just a moment ? ” 

“Certainly not,” said Chumbley; and ho rose slowly, as if a good 
deal of caution was required in getting his big body perpendicular ; 
after which he crossed to where the doctor was chatting to Gray 
Stuart. 

“Here, doctor, get up,” he said. “ Your colonel says you are to go 
to her directly. There’s such a row brewing ! ” 

“ No, no ! Gammon ! ” said the little man, uneasily. “ Mrs. Bolter 
didn’t send you, did she ? ” 

“ Yes. Honour bright ! and if I were you I’d go at once and throw 
myself on her mercy. You’ll get off more easily.” 

“ No, bur, Chumbley, what is it ? Ton my word I don’t think I’ve 
done anything to upset her to-day.” 

“ I don’t know. There ; she’s looking this way ! ’Pon my honour, 
doctor, you’d better go ! ” 

Dr. Bolter rose with a sigh, and crossed to his lady, while Chumbley 
took his place, and threw himself back, laughing softly the -W’hile. 

“If that was a trick, Mr. Chumbley,” said Gray, gazing at him 
keenly, “ it was very cruel of you ! ” 

“But it wasn’t a trick, Miss Stuart. She sent mo to fetch him. 
The poor little woman w'as getting miserable because the doctor was so 
attentive to you.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Chumbley, what nonsense,” said Gray, colouring. “ It is 
too absurd ! ” 

“ So it is,” he replied ; “but that isn’t.” 

She followed the direction of his eyes as he fixed them on Captain 
Hilton and Helen Perowne, and then, with the flush dying out of her 
cheeks, she looked at him inquiringly. 

“I say. Miss Stuart,” he ^’awled, “ don’t call me a mischief-maker, 
please.” 

“ Certainly not. Why should I ? ” 

“ Because I get chattering to people about Miss Perowne. I wish 
she’d marry somebody. I say, hasn’t she hooked Bertie Hilton ? ” 

There was no reply, and Chumbley went on : 

“I mean to tell him he’s an idiot when he gets back to quarters to- 
night. I don’t believe Helen Perowne cares a SOM for him. She keeps 
leading him on till the poor fellow doesn’t know whether he stands on 
his head or his heels, and by-and-by she’ll pitch him over.” 

Gray bent her head a little lower, for there seemed to be a knot in 
the work upon which she was engaged, but she did not speak. 

“Isay, Miss Stuart, look at our coffee-coloured friend. Just you 


A PROPOSAL. 


71 


watch his eyes. I’ll he hanged if I don’t think there’ll be a row between 
him and Hilton. He looks quite dangerous ! ” 

“Oh, Mr. Chumbleyl” cried Gray, gazing at him as if horrified 
at his words. 

“ AVell, I shouldn’t wonder,” he continued. “Helen Perowne has 
been leading him on, and now he has been cut to make room for Hilton. 
These Malay chaps don’t understand that sort of thing, especially as 
they all seem born with the idea that we are a set of common white 
people, and that one Malay is worth a dozen of us.” 

“ Do— do you think there is danger ? ” said Gray, hoarsely. 

“Well, no, perhaps not danger,” replied Chumbley, coolly; but 
things might turn ugly if they went on. And it’s my belief that, if 
my lady there does not take care, she’ll find herself in a mess.” 

A more general mingling of the occupants of the drawing-room put 
an end to the various Ute-a-tHes, and Gray Stuart’s present anxiety was 
somewhat abated ; but she did not feel any the more at rest upon seeing 
that the young rajah had softly approached Hilton, and was smiling at 
him in an innocently bland way, bending towards him as ho spoke, and 
keeping very close to his side for the rest of the evening. 

At last “good-byes” were said, and the party separated, the two 
young officers walking slowly down towards the landing-stage, to 
enter a native boat and be rowed to their quarters on the Residency 
island. 

The heat was very great, and but little was said for some minutes, 
during which Hilton was rapturously thinking of the beauty of Helen’s 
eyes. 

“ I say. Chum,” he said, suddenly. “ Murad has invited mo to go 
on a hunting-trip with him in the interior. Would you go ? ” 

“ Certainly — if ” drawled Chumbley, yawning. 

“If? If what!” 

“I wanted a kris in my back, and to supply food to the crocodiles.” 


CHAPTER XX. 

A PUOPOSAL. 

Mr. Perowne’s home at Sindang was kept up in almost princely style, 
and he was regarded as the principal inhabitant of the place. Doth 
English and Chinese merchants consulted him, and the native dealers 
and rajahs made him the first offers of tin slabs, rice, gambier, gutta- 
percha, and other products of the country, while a large proportion of 
the English and Erench imports that found favour with the Malays 
were consigned to the house of Perowne and Company. 

People said that he must be immensely rich, and he never denied the 
impeachment, but went on in a quiet, bland way, accepting their hints, 
polite to all, W'hether trading or non-trading, while his table was mag- 
nificently kept up, and to it the occupants of the station were always 
made welcome. 


72 


OXE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


When fate places people in the tropics, they mate a point of rising 
early. Helen Perowne vas up with the snn, and dressed in a charm- 
ing French muslin costume, had a delightful drive, which she called 
upon Gray Stuart to share, before she met her father at breakfast — a 
meal discussed almost in silence, for Mr. Perowne would give a good 
deal of his attention to business matters over his meals, a habit against 
which Dr. Bolter warned him, but without avail. 

The repast was nearly finished when a servant entered and announced 
that the Sultan Murad w^as coming down the river in his dragon-boat, 
and evidently meant to land at the stage at the bottom of the 
garden. 

“ What does he want ? ” said the merchant absently. ‘ ‘ Been collect- 
ing tribute, I suppose, and wants to sell. Go and see if he lands,” ho 
said aloud, “and then come back.” 

“This is the way we have to make our money, my dear,” said 
Perowne, smiling, but without seeing the increased colour in his child’s 
face. 

“ The Sultan is here, sir,” said the man, returning. 

“ Where ? ” asked Mr. Perowne. 

“ In the drawing-room, sir. Shall I bring in fresh breakfast ? ” 

“ I don’t know. ITl ring. I’ve done, Helen. I say, young lady, 
what a coloiir you have got ! You stopped out too long in the sun 
this morning.” 

“ Oh, no, papa, I think not,” she replied ; “ but it is hot.” 

“ You’ll soon get used to that, my dear. I don’t mind the heat at 
all. Party went off very well last night, I think.” 

The merchant was by this time at the door, wondering what proposal 
the Rajah had to make to him, for all these petty princes stoop to 
doing a little trading upon their own account, raising rice in large 
quantities by means of their slaves ; but, man of the world as the mer- 
chant was, he did not find himself prepared for the proposition that 
ensued. 

In this case Helen w'as more prepared than her father, though even 
she was taken by surprise. She had had her suspicions that the Rajah 
might take her soft glances and gently-spoken words as sufficient per- 
mission for him to speak to her father ; and though she trembled at 
the possible result, there was something so deliciously gratifying to 
her vanity that she could not help enjoying the position. 

To be asked in marriage by a real sultan! What would the Miss 
Twettenhams say ? And if she accepted him she would be sultana. 
The idea was dazzling at a distance, but even to her romance-loving 
brain there w'as something theatrical when it was looked at with the 
eyes of common sense. 

She could not accept him. It was absurd ; and after all, perhaps he 
had no such idea at that in coming. It was, as her father thought, 
some matter of business, such as he had been in the habit of visiting 
her father about over and over again, and such as had resulted in the 
Intimacy which made him a welcome guest at the house. 

She thought differently however ; and though she assumed surprise, 
she was in nowise startled when her father returned. 


A PKOPOSAL. 


73 


“I say, Nelly! ” ho exclaimed, looking annoyed, and completely off 
his balance, “ what the dickens have you been about ? ” 

“ About, papa ? ” said the girl, raising her eyebrows, “ I don’t under- 
stand you 1 ” 

“ Then the sooner you do the better ! Pve quite enough to worry me 
without your foolery ! Here’s the Kajah come to see me on business ! ” 
“ Very well, papa, I don’t understand business,” she said, quietly. 

“ But you’ll have to understand it ! ” he cried, angrily. “ Here, ho 
says that you have been giving him permission to speak to me ; and as 
far as I can understand him, ho proposes for your hand ! ” 

“The Eajah, papa ! Oh ! absurd I ” 

“ Oh, yes, it’s absurd enough, confound his copper-coloured insolence ! 
But it puts me in a fix with him. If I offend him, I shall offend his 
people or he’ll make them offended, and I shall be a heavy loser. Did 
you tell him to speak to me ? ” 

“ Certainly not, papa ! ” 

“ Perhaps I misunderstood him, for he speaks horrible English. But 
whether or no he proposes that you shall be his wife.” 

* ‘ His wife, papa ! Why, he has a dozen ! ” 

“Yes, my dear, of course; but then these fellows don’t take that 
into consideration. What the deuce am I to do ? ” 

‘ ‘ Tell him it is an insult to an English lady to propose such a thing I ” 
said Helen, haughtily. 

“ Yes, that’s easily said ; but you must have been leading the fellow 
on. 

“ He was your guest, papa, and I was civil to him,” said Helen, coldly. 
“ A deal too civil. I’ll be bound ! I’m sick of your civilities, Nell, 
and their consequences ! Why can’t you get engaged like any other 
girl ? I wish to goodness you w’ere married and settled ! ” 

“ Thank you, papa,” she replied, in the same cold, indifferent manner. 
“ Yes, but this fellow’s waiting to see you. What am I to say ? ” 

“ What are you to say, papa ? Keally you ought to know ! ” 

“ But it’s impossible for you to accept him, though he is very rich.” 
“ Quite impossible, papa ! ” 

“ Then he’ll be offended.” 

“ Well, papa, that is not of much consequence.” 

“ But it is of consequence — of great consequence ! Don’t I tell you 
it will cause me serious loss ; and besides that, it is dangerous to affront 
a fellow like this. He is only a nigger, of course, but he is a reigning 
prince, and has great power. He’s as proud as Lucifer ; and if he con- 
siders that he is affronted, there’s no knowing what may be the conse- 
quences.” 

“ He may carry me off perhaps, papa,” said Helen, showing her white 
teeth. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that he might not attempt it ! ” 

“Like a baron of old,” said the girl, scornfully. Papa, I am not 
a child ! How can you be so absurd ? ” 

“ You can call it w^hat you like,” ho said, angrily ; “ but your folly 
has got us into a pretty mess. Well, you must go in and see him.” 

“ J ? Go in and sec him ? ” cried Helen, flushing. “ Impossible, papa ! ” 


74 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Cut it is not impossible. I told him I didn’t know what to say 
till I had seen you, and, what was the perfect truth, that I was quite 
taken by surprise. Now the best thing will be for you to go in and see 
him and temporize with him. Don’t refuse him out and out, but try 
and ease him off, as one may say. Gain time, and the fellow will for- 
get all about it in a month or two.” 

“ Papa ! ” 

“ Ah, you may say — papa; but you have got me into a terrible mud- 
dle, and now you must help to get me out of it. I must not have this 
fellow offended. Confound the insolent scoundrel ! Just like the savage. 
He learns to wear English clothes, and then thinks he is a gentleman, 
and insults us with this proposal.” 

“ Yes; insults us papa : that is the word ! ” cried Helen, with spirit. 

“ Well, time’s flying, and he is waiting, so go and see him at once, 
and get it over.” 

“ But I tell you, papa, I cannot. It is impossible ! ” 

“ Why, you were talking to him for long enough last night in the 
drawing-room. Now, come, Helen, don’t be ridiculous, but go and do 
as I tell you ; and the sooner it is done the better.” 

Helen Perowne pressed her lips tightly together, and a look came 
into her face that betokened obstinate determination of the straitest 
kind. 

“Papa, you make matters worse,” she cried, “by proposing such a 
degrading task to me. This man is, as you say, little better than a 
savage. His proposal is an insult, and yet you wish me to go and see 
him. It is impossible ! ” 

“ Don’t I tell you that I have business arrangements with the fellow, 
and that I can’t afford to lose his custom ? And don’t I tell you that, 
situated as we are here amongst these people, it is not wdse to make 
them our enemies. I don’t W'ant you to snub him. It is only for pruden- 
tial reasons. Now, come : get it over.” 

“ I cannot see him ! I will not see him I ” cried Helen, passionately ; 
and she turned pale now at the idea of encountering the passionate 
young Malay. For the moment she bitterly regretted her folly, though 
the chances are that if circumstances tended in that direction she 
w^ould have behaved again in precisely the same wa3% 

“ Now look here, Nelly,” said Mr. Perowne, “ you must see him ! ” 

For answer she paused for a moment, and then walked straight to 
the door. 

“That’s right,” he said. “Temporize with him a bit, my dear, 
and let him down gently.” 

Helen stood with the door in her hand, and darted at him an im- 
perious look ; then she passed through, and the door swung to behind 
her. 

“ Confound him ! What insolence ! ” muttered Mr. Perowne, as ho 
stood listening. “ Eh ? No ; she wouldn’t dare ! Why, confound the 
girl, she has gone up to her room and locked herself in ! What a tem- 
per she has got to be sure ! ” 

He gave his head a vicious rub, and then, evidently under the 
impression that it was in vain to appeal again to his child, he snapped 


TAKING ALARM. 


75 


his teeth together sharply, and walked firmly into the drawing-room, 
where the Rajah stood impatiently waiting his return. 

The young eastern prince was most carefully dressed ; his morning 
coat and trousers being from a West-end tailor, and his hands were 
covered with the tightest of lemon-coloured gloves. In one hand was a 
gray tall hat, in the other the thinnest of umbrellas. Altogether his 
appearance was unexceptionable, if he had dispensed with the gaudy 
silken sarong ablaze with a plaid of green, yellow, and scarlet. 

His thick lips were wreathed in a pleasant smile, and his dark, full 
eyes were half closed ; but they opened widely for an instant, and 
seemed to emit anger in one flash, as he saw that Mr. Perowne came 
back alone. 

“ Where — is — miss ? ” ho said, in a slow, thick tone. 

** Well, the fact is, Rajah,” said Mr. Perowne, giving a laugh to clear 
his throat, “ I have seen my daughter, and she asked me to tell you 
that she is suffering from a bad headache. You understand mo ? ” 

The young Rajah nodded, his eyes seeming to contract the while. 

“ She is of course very much flattered by your proposal — one which 
she says she will think over most carefully ; but she is so surprised, 
that she can only ask you to give her time. I see you understand 
me?” ^ 

The Rajah nodded again in a quick, eager way. 

“ English girls do not say yes all at once to a proposal like yours ; 
and if you will wait a few months — of course being good friends all the 
time — wo shall be able to speak more about the subject.” 

Mr. Perowne, merchant, and man of the world, meant to say all this 
in a quick, matter-of-fact, frank way, but he stumbled, and spoke in a 
halting, lame fashion, growing more and more unsatisfactorily as the 
young Malay prince came closer to him. 

“ I — I think you understand me,” he said, feeling called upon to say 
something as the Malay glared at him as if about to spring. 

“ Yes — yes ! ” hissed the Malay. “ Lies — all lies ! I came for friend. 
You mock — you laugh in my face — but you do not know. I say I came 
for friend — I go away — enemy 1 ” 

He went on speaking rapidly in the Malay ton^e, his rage seeming 
to be the more concentrated from the cold, cutting tone he adopted. 
Then, nearly closing his eyes, and giving his peculiar type of features 
a crafty, cat-like aspect, he gazed furiously at the merchant for a few 
minutes, and then turned, hnd seemed to creep from the house in a way 
that was as feline as his looks. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

TAKING ALARM, 

Mr. Perowne drew his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the 
dew from his forehead. 

“Good Heavens !” he ejaculated, “they assassinated poor Rodrick 
and here is that girl only home for a few weeks, and a shock like this 


?0 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


to come upon mel Surely IVe troubles enough on hand without a 
worry like this ! ” . 

He walked to the window and saw the Malay prince entering his 
boat by the landing-place, where it was pushed off and pulled into mid- 
stream by a do?en stout rowers. 

“ The man’s mad with passion,” muttered Mr. Perowne. “ I would 
not have had it happen for all I possess. Women always were at the 
bottom of every bit of mischief, but I did not expect Helen would begin 
so soon.” 

He had another look at the Rajah ’s handsome boat, which took the 
place of a carriage in that roadless place, and saw that the Malay prince 
had turned and was gazing back. 

“ I don’t know what’s to be the end of all this, and Oh, Harley ! 

is that you ? Come in.” 

The Resident, looking rather troubled and anxious, came in through 
the veranda, gazing sharply at Mr. Perowne. 

“ What has the Rajah been here for this morning ? ” 

“ What has ho been here for ! ” cried Mr. Perowne, angrily, and glad 
of someone upon whom he could let off a little of his rage. “ Why, to 
do what you ought to have done in a downright way. I gave you leave, 
and you have done nothing but play with her.” 

“ He has not been to propose for Helen’s hand? ” 

“ Indeed, but he has.” 

“ How unfortunate ! I did not know that matters had gone so far as 
that?” 

“Nor I neither. I knew that she was flirting a bit, confound her. 
Did you meet him ? ” 

“Yes, and he would not speak. I saw something was wrong from 
his savage manner.” 

“ Perhaps he thought you had come up to propose, eh ? Had you ? ” 

“ Not exactly,” said the Resident, looking very serious. 

“Because if you had, you ought to have come before,” said Mr. 
Perowne, biting his nails. 

“ I came to remonstrate with Helen, after seeing Mrs. Bolter this 
morning.” 

“ Hang Mrs. Bolter for a meddling little fool,” cried the merchant. 

“ She drew my attention to the serious dangers that might ensue if 
Helen led this man on. I ought to have foreseen it, but I did not, and 
that’s the most troublous part of it. I ought to have known better,” 
cried the Resident, biting his lips. 

“Oh, it’s very easy to talk,” said Mr. Perowne, whose previous 
night’s blandness seemed to be quite gone, to leave a weak, querulous 
childishness in its place. 

“ Knowing what I do of the Malay character, Perowne, I ought to 
have watched her, but I confess I was so wrapped up in my own feelings 
that I did not think.” 

“ I thought you wanted to marry her, I gave you my consent at once. 
I told you nothing would please me better,” continued the father, 
querulously ; “but ever since you both landed you seem to have done 
nothing but shilly-shally.” 


MRS. BOLTER AT HOME. 


77 


“ Don’t talk like that, Perowno,” said the Resident, impatiently. 
“ A man does not take a wife like you make a bargain. I want to win 
her love as well as have her hand.” 

“ And you hang back— I’ve seen you — and let these other fellows cut 
you out. Hilton and Chumbley, and then this Rajah. I say — I must 
say, Harley, it is much too bad.” 

“ Yes, yes, I have done as you say ; but I had a reason for it, Perowne, 
I had indeed ; but I find I can manage natives better than a beautiful 
girl. If I had foreseen ” 

“If I had foreseen it,” cried Perowne, interrupting, “I’d have 
had her kept in England. Confound the girl ! ” 

“ It never occurred to me,” said the Resident, “ though it ought, that 
danger might arise from her flirtations.” 

“ Danger ! Why I shall lose thousands ! ” cried Perowne. “The 
fellow will never forgive me, and throw endless obstacles in my way 
with his people.” 

“ Helen refused him, of course ?” said the Resident. 

“ Of course— of course,” said the merchant, pettishly. 

“I blame myself deeply for not being more observant,” said the 
Resident. “ Others have seen what I failed to see, and it was always 
so. Lookers-on see most of the game ; but I am awake to the danger 
now.” 

“Danger? danger?” said Perowne, looking up now in a startled 
way. “ Do you think there is danger? I hope not ; but we ought to 
be prepared. What do you think it will be best to do ? ” 

“See Hilton, and tell him to double all guards ; fill your revolver 
with cartridges ; and be always on the alert. We must make no show 
of being in danger, but go on as usual, while reinforcements are quietly 
sent for from Singapore.” 

“ Do — do you think it will be as bad as that ? ” 

“Worse, for aught I know,” said the Resident, bitterly. “ That 
fellow, with all his smoothness and French polish, may turn out, now ho 
is thwarted, a perfect demon. Perowne, we have contrived to make 
him our bitterest foe.” 

“But — but it couldn’t be helped, Harley,” said Perowne, in an 
apologetic tone. ‘ ‘ Helen could not ” 

“ Suppose you leave Miss Perowno’s name out of the question, Mr. 
Perowne,” said the Resident, sternly. “ I’ll go on ^nd see Hilton now, 
and wo must do the 'oest we can.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 

MRS. BOLTER AT UOUE. 

It cannot be denied that Mrs. Bolter’s mature little heart had 
developed, with an intense love and admiration of her lord, a good 
deal of acidity, such as made her jealous, exacting, and tyrannical to a 
degree. 

Lot it not be supposed, however, that the doctor was unhappy. 


78 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Quite the contrary; he seemed to enjoy his tyrant’s rule, and to go on 
peaceably enough, lotting her dictate, oi’der, and check him at her cvra 
sweet will. 

“ There’s no doubt about it,” chuckled the little doctor to himself, 
“she’s as jealous as Othello, and watches me like an — an — an — well — 
say eagle,” said he, quite at a loss for a simile. “ I don’t mind, bless 
her ! Shows how fond she has grown ; and I suppose it must be worrying 
to the dear little woman to have first one and then another lady sending 
for me. I don’t wonder at her asking me what they wanted. I 
shouldn’t like it if gentlemen were always sending for hei’.” 

Dr. Bolter had been indulging in a similar strain to this, when, after 
making up a few quinine powders in his tiny surgery, he went into the 
room where his little wife was in conversation wdth her brother. 

“Ah, Arthur!” said the doctor, “how are you getting on with 
folks?” 

“ Very pleasantly,” said the chaplain, smiling. “ I find everybody 
kind and genial.” 

“ That’s right,” said the doctor, rubbing his hands and smiling at his 
wife, who frowned at him severely, and then let her pleasant face break 
up in dimples. “I want you both to enjoy the place. Don’t be afraid 
of visiting. They like it. Stir them up well, and make yourself quite 
at homo with everybody. This isn’t England.” 

“ No,” said the Reverend Arthur, smiling ; “ I find the difference.” 

‘ ‘ I say, old boy,” continued the doctor, I was in the fort yesterday, 
talking to some of the men. They say they like your preaching.” 

“ I am very glad, Harry,” said the chaplain, simply. “ I was afraid 
that I was rather wandering sometimes in my discourse.” 

“No, no; just what they like, old fellow! Simple and matter of 
fact. What they can understand. Going ? ” 

“ Yes; I am going across to see Mr. Harley.” 

“ Ah ! do. Good fellow, Harley ! Don’t make any mistakes though, 
and step into the river instead of the sampan.” 

“Is there any danger, Henry ? ” exclaimed Mrs. Doctor, sharply. 

“Not the least, my dear; only Arthur here is a little dreamy 
sometimes.” 

“I’d go with him,” said Mrs. Bolter, decidedly, “only I want to 
talk to you, Henry.” 

“ Pheo-ew ! ” whistled the doctor, softly, “ here’s a breeze coming ; ” 
and he looked furtively at his wife to see what she meant. 

She walked with her brother to the door, bade him be careful, and 
then returned. 

“Now look here, Dr. Bolter,” she said, severely, “I am the last 
woman in the world to find fault, but 1 am your wife.” 

“ You are, my dear Mary, and the very, very best of wives ! ” 

“ That’s base flattery, sir,” said the little lady, who, however, looked 
pleased. 

“ Flattery ? No ! One never flatters one’s wife.” 

“ How do you know, sir ? ” cried Mrs. Bolter, sharply. 

“ From what one reads, Mary. 1 never had a wife before ; and I 
never flatter you.” 


MRS. BOLTER AT HOME. 


79 


« No, sir, but you try something else ; and I tell you I will not 
submit to be imposed upon ! ?’ 

“ I’m sure, my dear, I never impose upon you.” 

“ Indeed, sir; then what is this you propose doing ? Why do you 
want to go away for three days ? ” 

“ Collecting, my dear.” 

“Without Arthur? Now look here. Bolter, the very fact of your 
wanting to go collecting without Arthur, wliom you always talk about 
as being a brother naturalist, looks suspicious.” 

“ Indeed, my dear, I do want to go collecting.” 

“ Collecting ? Rubbish ! ” 

“ No, my dear, it is not. I’m afraid you will never realize the value 
of my specimens.” 

“ You are going collecting, then ? ” said Mrs. Doctor, 

“ Yes, my dear.” 

“Without Arthur?” 

“ Yes ; he does not get on very well in the jungle ; and he is rather 
awkward in a boat.” 

“Then I shall go with you myself,” said the little lady, decidedly. 

“You — you go with me, Mai’y ! ” he said staring. 

“Yes, certainly.” 

“ But the thorns, and mud, and heat, and mosquitoes, my 
dear?” 

“ If they will not hurt you, Henry, they will not hurt me,” said the 
little lady. 

“ But they would hurt you, my dear. Of course I should like to 
have you, but it would bo impossible ! I shall only be away three 
days.” 

“But the place is full of old stones, and skins that smell atrociously, 
and wretched flies and beetles with pins stuck through their bodies, 
and I’m sure I can’t think why you want more.” 

For the learned societies in London, my dear. You forget that I 
am a corresponding member to several.” 

“ Oh, no, I don’t,” said Mrs. Bolter. “I don’t forget that you of<-en 
make it an excuse for sitting up all night smoking and drinking cold 
whiskey and water, sir, because you have writing to do, instead of 
coming to bed.” 

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. 

“ My dear,” he said, “ you would be a perfect woman if you only 
cared for science.” 

“You never said a word to me, sir, about caring for science when I 
consented to come out with you to this dreadful, hot, damp place, where 
everything that does not turn mouldy is eaten by ants.” 

“The damp and the ants are great nuisances, my dear,” said the 
doctor. “They have destroyed numbers of my best specimens.” 

“ They have destroyed my beautiful piano that I was foolish enough 
to bring out,” said Mrs. Bolter. “ Gray Stuart opened it yesterday, 
and the damp has melted the glue, and the ants have eaten up all the 
leather of the hammers. The wires are rusty, and the instrument is 
totally spoiled.” 

6 


80 


ONE ]\LiID’S MISCHIEF. 


“Never mind, my dear, so long as the climate does not affect your 
constitution,” said the doctor, cheerfully. 

“ Oh, by the way, ” said Mrs. Bolter, “ that reminds mo of two things. 
First of all, Bolter, I will not have you so fond of talking to the young 
ladies at the dinner-parties to which we go. You remember what I 
said to you about your conduct with Miss Morrison ? ” 

“ Yes, my dear, perfectly,” said the doctor, with a sigh. 

“ Secondly, about medicine. Now, it is of no use for you to deny it, 
for I feel as sure as can be that you have been giving me some medicine 
on the sly these last few days.” 

“ Why, my darling ! ” cried the doctor. 

“ It is of no use for you to put on that injured expression, Henry, 
because I know ; and mind this, I don’t accuse you of trying to poison 
me, but of trying experiments with new-fangled drugs, and I tell you 
I won’t have it.” 

The doctor protested his innocence, but the lady was not convinced ; 
and apparently under the impression that it would be as well to submit, 
he allowed her to go on till she reached the top of her bent, when she 
suddenly changed the topic. 

“ Ah, there was something else I wanted to say to you,” she said, 
sharply. “ Now about Helen Perowne.” 

This was too much for the doctor’s equanimity, and he gave the table 
a bang with his list. 

“I declare it’s too bad,” he exclaimed, wrathfully now. He had 
submitted to all that had been said before with a few protestations and 
shrugs of the shoulders, but now he fired up. “ I have never hardly 
said a civil word to the girl in my life, for I protest that I utterly 
detest the handsome, heartless, coquettish creature. Of all the unjust 
women I ever met, Mary, you are about the worst.” 

A casual observer would have set Mrs. Doctor Bolter down as an 
extremely prejudiced, suspicious woman of a highly-jealous tempera- 
ment ; but then a casual observer would not have known her real nature. 

If he had seen her now, as she sank back in her chair, and the pleasant 
dimples and puckers came into her face, he would have understood much 
better how it was that the doctor had persuaded her to leave her 
maiden state to come and share his lot. 

For as the doctor turned redder in the face and then purple, she 
smiled and shook a little round white finger at him. 

“ A guilty conscience needs no accuser,” she said. “ I never accused 
you, sir, of flirting with Helen Perowne; but as soon as I mentioned 
her name you began to defend yourself.” 

“ I don’t care,” cried the doctor, “I confess I have said compli- 
mentary and pleasant things to all the ladies on the station, both old 
and young; not that they think anything of it, for I’m only the 
doctor ; while as to Helen Perowne, last time her father asked me to 
see and prescribe for her, and she began to make eyes at me, and put 
forth her blandishments ” 

“ Oh, you confess that, sir ? ” 

“ Confess it ? ” cried the doctor, stoutly. “ Why she does that to 
every man she sees I 1 believe if her father took her to Madame 


MRS. BOLTER AT HOME. 


81 


Tussaud’s You rememLer my taking you to Madame Tussaud’s. mv 

dear?” 

“ Oh, yes, I remember,” said Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Well, I honestly believe that if she were taken there she’d begin 
making eyes at the wax figures.” 

“Indeed ! ” said Mrs. Bolter, stiffly. “And so she began to maka 
eyes at you ! ” 

“ That she did, the jade,” said the doctor, chuckling, “ and — and— > 
ha, ha, ha — ho, ho, ho ! don’t — ha, ha, ha ! — say a word about it, my 
dear — there was nothing the matter with her but young girls’ whimsical 
fancies ; and she made me so cross with her fads and languishing airs, 
and then by making such a dead set at me, that I — ha, ha, ha, — ho, 
ho, ho ” 

“Bolter,” exclaimed Mrs. B., “ if you confess to. me that you kissed 
her I’ll have a divorce — I’ll go straight back to England ! ” 

“ Kiss her ? Not I. I— ho, ho, ho ! — I gave her such a dose ; and I 
kept her extremely poorly for about a week. She — she hates me like 
she does physic. Oh dear me ! ” 

The doctor wiped his eyes, burst into another fit of laughing, and 
then, after another wipe at his eyes, his face smoothed down and he 
grew composed. 

“Then it’s a pity you don’t give her another dose of medicine,” 
said his lady, “and prevent her doing so much mischief as she is doing 
here.” 

“ But really, my dear, you have no right to accuse me of being extra 
polite to Helen Perowne.” 

“I did not, and I "was not about to accuse you of being extra polite 
to Helen Perowne — extra 'polite, as you call it, sir ; but I was about to 
connect her name with that of other gentlemen, and not with that of 
my husband.” 

“ Oh ! come, that’s a comfort,” said the doctor. “ What is it then 
about Helen Perowne ? ” 

“I don’t like the way in which she is going on,” said Mrs. Doctor, 
“ and I am quite sure that no good will come of it. I don’t think there 
is any real harm in the girl.” 

“ Harm ? No, I don’t think there is,” said Dr. Bolter. “ She’s very 
handsome, and she has been spoiled by flattery.” 

“Administered by foolish men like someone we know,” said the 
lady. 

“H’m! yes— well, perhaps so; but really she is too bad. The 
fellows seem to run mad after her.” 

“Did you see her talking to the Rajah last night ? ” 

“Yes, I saw her; and then poor Hilton began to singe his wings 
in the candle, and next week she will have somebody else. I know 
what I’d do if I had to prescribe for lior,” 

“ And what might that be, sir ? ” 

“I’d prescribe a husband, such a one as Harley — a firm, strong- 
minded, middle-aged man, w'ho would keep a tight hand at the rein 
and bring her to her senses. I daresay she’d make a man a good wife, 
after all.” 


82 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Perhaps so,” said Mrs. Doctor, pursing up her lips ; “ but meantime, 
as you are not called upon to prescribe,., what is to be done ? ” 

“ To be done ? Why, nothing.” 

“ Oh ! but something must be done, Poltcrw You ought to speak to 
Mr. Perowne.” 

‘ ‘ And be called an idiot for my pains. No, thank you, my dear. In 
all such delicate matters as these, a lady’s hand — I should say, congue 
— is the instrument to set matters right. Now, I should say the proper 
thing would be for a quiet, sensible, clever, middle-aged lady — may I 
speak of you as a middle-aged lady, my dear ? ” 

“ Don’t be stupid, Henry. I’m forty-four, as you well know, and I 
never pretended to be younger.” 

“ No, of course not. You fired forty years at me in a platoon when 
I proposed, like the dear, sensible old darling you are.” 

“ Tut ! Hush ! Silence, sir I No more of that, please.” 

“ All right, my dear. Well, as I was saying, suppose you have a 
quiet talk to the girl yourself.” 

Mrs. Bolter knitted her brows and looked very thoughtful. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “It might do good, or it might not. 
I will think about it.” 

“ And about my going away for three days, my dear.” 

*‘Oh, one moment, Henry,” said Mrs. Doctor. “ There was some- 
thing else I w'ished to ascertain.” 

“ What, another something else ? ” groaned the doctor. 

“ Yes, another something else, sir. You promised me, that if you 
could not quite check that terrible habit of yours of talking about Opuir 
and King Solomon, that you would modify it.” 

Yes, my dear,” said the doctor, giving his car a rub, and accom- 
panying it by a submissive look. 

“ I heard you last night exciting the ridicule of all the gentlemen by 
your pertinacious declarations regarding that mythical idea.” 

“ Don’t say ridicule, my dear.” 

“But I do say ridicule, Henry, and I object to having my husband 
laughed at by ignorant people — he being a very clever man. So be 
careful in the future. Now you may ge.” 

“ For three days, my dear ? ” 

“ Yes ; and pray take care of yourself.” 

“I will, my darling,” he cried, in delight; and he was about to 
embrace the lady W'armly, v/hon a step was heard in the veranda, and a 
voice exclaiming : 

“ May I come in ? ” 


CHAPTER XXIII 

A LITTLE CLOUD. 

“ Yes ; come in Mr. Harley,” and the tall, stern-looking Resident 
entered the room with the free at-homeness of people living out at a 


A LITTLE CLOUD, 


83 


station -where circumstances force the Europeans into the closest 
intimacy. 

“Is anything the matter ? ” exclaimed the doctor’s -vrife, as she saw 
his anxious face. 

“Well, not yet,” he said; “hut I must confess to being a little 
nervous about something that has happened. Don’t go away. Bolter,” 

“Only going to make a fe-nr preparations for a run out. Back 
directly.” 

“No, no,” said the Eesident; “you would oblige me by staying. 
I think, Bolter, you will have to give up all thought of going out at 
present.” 

“ 'I'hen something is the matter ! ” said the doctor. 

“ Oh, it isn’t doctors’ work — at present,” said the Kesident, smiling. 
“ The fact is, the Kajah has been hanging about Perowne’s place a good 
deal lately.” 

“Yes, we had observed it,” said Mrs. Bolter, severely. 

“ And the foolish fellow seems to think he has had a little encourage- 
ment from Miss Perowne.” 

Mrs. Doctor nodded and tightened her lips as the Eesident went on : 

“ The result is, that he has been to Perowne’s this morning and pro- 
posed in due form for her hand.” 

“ Why, the scoundrel has got about a dozen wives,” cried the doctor. 

“ Yes ; and of course Perowne tried to smooth him down and to 
soften the disappointment ; but he has gone away furious. I have just 
come from Perowne’s, and I called to put you on your guard.” 

“ Think there’s any danger ? ” said the doctor, sharply. 

“ Can’t say. You know what these people are if they do not have 
their own way.” 

“ Yes,” said the doctor thoughtfully. “ They can be crafty and 
cruel enough I know ; and they don’t love us any better than they did 
ten years ago, when I was all through the old troubles.” 

“ Of course,” said the Resident, “ if there should be any threatening of 
trouble you will come across to the island till it is over. I would not 
show that we are at all uneasy, doctor; only be upon one’s guard.” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Doctor, who had been listening attentively, “ that 
will be best. There may bo no trouble over the matter, Mr. Harley, 
and I think we should, as you say, be doing wrong by seeming to be 
alarmed.” 

“ Then my expedition is quashed for the present,” said the doctor, 
dolefully. 

“It can wait, I am sure,” said his lady, quietly; and her lord 
resigned himself to his fate as the Eesident repeated his advice about 
not spreading the alarm and exciting the natives by whom they were 
surrounded, and then left them to go to the fort on the Residency 
island — a picturesque little clump of rocky earth that divided the river 
into two parts. On mounting upon the bamboo landing-stage the first 
person he encountered was Captain Hilton. 

Knowing as he did that the young officer had been very attentive to 
Helen Perowne of late, he hesitated for a few moments, naturally feeling 
a repugnance to speak upon such matters lo one whom other men would 


84 


0^’E MAID’S MISCIHEF. 


hare considered a rival ; but after a little thought he laughed to 
himself. 

“lam a fatalist,” he muttered, “and I am not afraid. Here, 
Hilton,” he said, aloud, “I want to speak to you. Ah, there’s 
Chumbley, too. Don’t take any particular notice,” he continued, as he 
noticed that several of the natives were about. “ Have a cigar ? ” 

He drew out his case as he spoke, and Lieutenant Chumbley coming 
sauntering up in his cool, idle way, the case was offered to him, and 
the three gentlemen went slowly along the well-kept military path 
towards the little mess-room. 

“Anything wrong? ” said Captain Hilton, eagerly; and as he spoke 
the Itesident saw his eyes turn in the direction of Mr. Perowne’s 
house on the east bank of the river. 

“Not at present; but the fact is, lam afraid Mr. Perowne has 
seriously affronted the Rajah this morning, and I think it would be as 
well to be upon our guard.” 

“Got any more of these cigars, Harley?” said Chumbley, quietly. 
“ I like ’em.” 

“ Por Heaven’s sake do hold your tongue, Chumbley ! ” cried the 
captain. “ I never did see a fellow so cool and indifferent.” 

“ Why not ? ” replied Chumbley, in his slow drawl. “ There’s nothing 
wrong, only that the Rajah has been to Perowne’s this morning to 
propose for the fair Helen, and he has come away with a flea in his ear.” 

“ What ? ” cried Captain Hilton. 

“How did you know?” exclaimed the Resident, turning upon 
Chumbley, sharply. 

“ Guessed it — knew it would come from what I saw last night. 
That’s it, isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, that is it,” replied the Resident, frowning slightly. 

“The insolence — the consummate ignorant audacity! ” cried the 
captain, his face flush?ng wdth anger. “ The dog I I’ll horsewhip him 
till he begs for mercy ! ” 

“ You will do nothing of the kind, Hilton,” said the Resident quietly. 

“Rut it is insufferable,” cried Hilton. “An ignorant, brown- 
skinned savage to pretend to place himself on a level with gentlemen, 
and then to dare to propose for an English lady’s hand ! ” 

“ Don’t be excited, Hilton,” said the Resident, looting fixedly in the 
yoxing officer’s handsome, angry countenance. “You forget that the 
Ra jah may look dowm upon us as his inferiors. He is a prince in his 
own right, and rules over a very large extent of country here.” 

“Oh, yes, I know all that,” cried Hilton, angrily ; “ but of course 
Perow'ne sent him about his business ? ” 

“Yes, and that is why I have come to you. There may bo nothing 
more heard of the matter; but I think it quite possible that the Rajah 
may have taken such dire offence that he will force all his people to 
join in his quarrel, and the result be a serious trouble.” 

“ I hope not,” drawled Chumbley, “ I hate fighting.” 

“ Pooh 1 ” ejaculated Hilton. “If the scoundrel gives us any of his 
insolence, we’ll send him handcuffed to Singapore ! ” 

“I should be greatly obliged, Hilton,” said the Resident stiffly, “ if 


A LITTLE CLOUD. 


85 


you would modify your tone a little. For my part, I am not surprised 
at the Eajah’s conduct, and 1 think that it would be better to let our 
behaviour towards him be conciliatinf^.*’ 

“ What ! to a fellow like that ? ” cried the captain. 

“ To a man like that,” said the Resident, gravely. “If he behaves 
badly, we are strong enough to resent it ; but if, on the other hand, he 
cools down and acts as a gentleman would under the circumstances, it is 
our duty to meet him in the most friendly spirit we can.” 

“ I don’t think so,” cried Hilton, hotly, “ and if the scoundrel comes 
to me I shall treat him as he deserves.” 

“ Captain Hilton,” said the Resident, and his voice was now very 
grave and stern, “ 1 must ask you to bear in mind that we occupy a very 
delicate position here — I as Her Majesty’s representative; and you, 
with your handful of troops, as my supporters. We are few, living in 
the midst oTmany, and we hold our own here, please to recollect, by 
prestige” 

“ Of course — yes, I know that,” said Hilton. 

“That prestige we shall lose if we let our judgment be biased by 
personal feeling. Kindly set self on one side, as 1 am striving to do, 
and help me to the best of your ability by your manly, unselfish 
advice.” 

Hilton frowned as the Resident went on ; but the next instant he 
had held out his hand, which the other grasped. 

“I’m afraid 1 am very hot-headed, Mr. Harley,” he exclaimed, 
“ There, it is ail over, and I’ll help you to the best of my power. Now 
then, what’s to be done ? ” 

“ First accept my thanics,” said the Resident, “I knew that I could 
count upon you, Hilton.” 

“I’ll do my best, Harley.” 

“Then stroll quietly back to the barracks, and in a matter-of-fact 
way see that all is in such order that you could bring up your men at a 
moment's notice.” 

“ Reinforcements? ” suggested Captain Hilton. 

“ I did think of asking for them,” said the Resident, “ but on second 
thoughts it seems hardly necessary. I would do everything without 
exciting suspicion, and as if you were only inspecting the fort. 
Now go.” 

“ Right,” said the captain ; and he walked away, saying to himself : 

“ He’s a good fellow, Harley, that he is, and he does not bear a bit 
of malice against me for cutting him out. Poor fellow ! he must have 
felt it bitterly. Hang it all ! I could not have borne it. The very fact 
of this fellow proposing for Helen nearly drove me wild. I think if I 
were to lose her I should die.” 

Chumbley was about to follow Hilton, but the Resident laid a hand 
upon his shoulder. 

“ Of course I can count upon your discretion, Chumbley ? ” he said. 

“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” said the young man, “ so long as you don’t 
want anything done in a hurry. Nature seems to forbid a man to be 
scurried in this climate; but I say, Mr. Harley, don’t let’s have a row 
if you can help it. I’m a soldier, but if there is anything I do abhoi-, 


86 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


it is fighting. I hate blood. The very idea of having to make our lads 
use their bayonets gives me a cold chillall down the back.” 

“ Depend upon it wo will not have a quarrel with the natives if we 
can help it, Chumbley. If diplomacy can keep it off, there shall bo 
none ; ” and nodding his head in a friendly manner to the young officer, 
he strolled away. 

“But diplomacy won’t keep it off, my dear sir,” said Chumbley. 
“ If Mother Nature turns loose such a girl as Helen Perowne, to play 
fast and loose with men like Murad, a row must come. 

“ Let me see,” he said, after a pause, “what shall I do with myself 
to-day ? Best way to avoid scrapes is to keep up friendly relations 
with the natives. 

“■ Oh, what a worry this love-making is ! We all go in for it at 
some time or another, but hang mo if I think it pays. 

“ Little Helen quite hates me now, since I’ve broken the string and will 
not bo cajoled into coming back. By Jove ! what a wise little girl little 
Stuart is. One might get itp a flirtation there without any heart- 
breaking. No : won’t do, she’s too sweet, and wise, and sensible. Hang 
it all, can’t a fellow talk sensibly to a pretty girl without thinking he’s 
flirting ! I like little Stuart! You can talk to her about anything, and 
i^e never giggles and blushes, and looks silly. She’s an uncommonly nice 
young girl, and twenty years hence, when beautiful Helen has grown old, 
and yellow, and scraggy, Stuart will be a pleasant, soft, amiaVde little 
woman, like Mrs. Bolter. There’s a woman for you ! ’Pon my word I 
believe she likes me : she talks to me just as if I were a big son. 

“ Well, now, what’s to be done ? I’ll go and see if Hilton wants me, 
and if he doesn’t I shall have a few hours ashore. 

“ By the way, I wonder who’ll marry little Stuart ? ” ho said, as he 
went slowly on with his hands behind him, his broad chest thrown out, 
and a bluff, manly bearing about him that would have made an on- 
looker think that he would not make a bad match for the lady himself. 

“ I shan’t,” he added, after a pause. ‘ “ Hilton’s a precious idiot not to 
go for her himself, instead of wasting his time upon a woman who will 
throw him over. As for me, I’m beginning to think I am not a lady’s 
man. I’m too big, and clumsy, and stupid. They tolerate me when 
they don’t laugh at me. Bah I what does it matter ? Sport’s my line 
—and dogs 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE PAINS OP A PRINCESS. 

Captain Hilton saw no reason for detaining his subaltern, only bade 
him be ready to return to the island at the slightest sign of danger, 
which Chumbley promised to do ; and he was about to walk down to 
the landing-stage, when, happening to gaze across the swift river to- 
wards Mr. Perowne’s beautiful garden, which sloped down to the 
water’s edge, with as good a semblance of a lawn as could be obtained in 


THE PAINS OF A PEINCESS. 


87 


that part of the world, he caught sight of a couple of figures in white, 
walking slowly up and down in the shade of the trees. 

He was too far distant to make out their faces, but ho had no doubt 
that the two were Helen and Gray Stuart. 

“ Now I would not mind laying a whole shilling that Blaster Hilton 
has his binocular focussed exactly upon one of your faces, and is 
watching every turn of expression. If you smile he thinks it is with 
thoughts of him ; and take it altogether, the poor fellow imagines you 
are always dreaming of him, when you are wondering what is worn now 
in Paris or London, and whether any of the new fashions will reach you 
by the next steamer. 

“ Yes, that’s Helen — fair Helen,” he said, leaning upon a rail, and 
gazing across the water. “ Chumbley, old fellow, I’m beginning to 
think you are not quite such a fool as I used to imagine you to be. It 
was a good brave stroke to get away from the toils of that syren ; for 
there’s no mistake about it, old man, you were just like a big fly in 
the pretty spider’s web. 

“ I3y George! she is a very lovely girl though! She seems to 
fascinate everyone she comes near. Thank goodness, she only got me 
by one leg, and I broke out, I hope, without much damaging the net. 
Certainly she soon seemed to repair it. I wish I were a good prophet,” 
he went on, lighting a cigarette. “I should like to be able to say 
what is to take place here, who’ll marry whom, and who’ll remain 
single. Hulloa ! what’s coming now ? ” 

The splash of oars roused him from his reverie, and turning towards 
the landing-stage, he made out a dragon-boat, or naga, as the larger 
row-galleys used by the Blalay nobles are called, rapidly approaching 
the little isle. 

It was propelled by a dozen rowers, all dressed uniformly in yellow 
silk bajus or jackets, their coarse black hair being topped by a natty 
little cap similar to that worn by a cavalry soldier in undress, and they 
kept stroke with wonderful accuracy as they forced the boat along 

A large shed-like awning of bamboo and palm-leaves covered the 
latter part of the vessel ; and Chumbley forgot his customary inertia, 
and scanned the boat eagerly, to see if it contained armed men. To 
his surprise, however, he saw that the whole space beneath the 
broad awning was filled with women, whose brightly-coloured silken 
sarongs were hung from their heads after the manner of veils ; and 
though the rowers each wore his kris, the hilt was covered, and it was 
evidently a friendly visit. 

“ I don’t know though,” thought Chumbley. “ Perhaps it is a ruse, 
and instead of women, those are smart youths, well armed, ready to 
give our fellows a dig with the kris, and take the place by surprise. 

“ No,” he said, after a few moments’ pause, for there was no mistak- 
ing the object of the visit, the Malays being a particularly religious 
people, and great sticklers for form and ceremony, to which they 
adhere with scrupulous exactness, so that anyone pretty well versed in 
their customs would know at a glance at their dress whether their 
object W’as friendly or the reverse. 

“ Why, it must be the Inche Blaida,” muttered Chumbley, giving 


88 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


the native name to a princess residing some distance higher up the stream. 
“ I ought to have been in full fig. I suppose I must go and receive 
her as I am. ” 

He threw away his cigarette, turned out the guard, sent a messenger 
up to the Residency with the news of the Princess’s arrival, bidding 
the man leave word at the officers’ quarters as he passed, and then 
walked down to the landing-stage, just as the dragon-boat, with its 
carved and gilded prow, was run abreast. 

Chumbley courteously raised his muslin-covered pith helmet, tucked 
it beneath his arm, and helped the Princess to step ashore. 

She was a remarkably handsome woman of about thirty, with 
features of the Malay tribe, but softened into a nearer approach to 
beauty than is common amongst the women of this nation, whose 
prominent lips and dilated nostrils are not compensated by the rich 
long black hair, and large lustrous dark eyes. 

In the case of the Princess there was almost a European cast of 
feature, and she possessed an imposing yet graceful carriage, which, 
with her picturesque costume and flower-decked hair, made her far from 
unattractive, in spite of her warm brown skin. 

She accepted Chumbley’s assistance with a smile that checked the 
thought in his mind that she was a fine-looking woman ; for that smile 
revealed a set of remarkably even teeth, but they were filed to a 
particular pattern and stained black. 

Chumbley removed his eyes at once from this disfigurement, and let 
them rest on the magnificent knot of jetty hair, in which were stuck, 
in company with large gold pins, clusters of a white and odorous 
jasmine. 

He could not help noting, too, the gracefully- worn scarf of gossamer 
texture, passing from her right shoulder beneath her left arm, and 
secured by a richly-chased gold brooch of native workmanship. This 
she removed to set the scarf at liberty, so as to throw over her head to 
screen it from the sun. 

Accustomed to command, she made no scruple in exposing her face 
to the gaze of men ; but as the women who formed her train alighted, 
each raised her hands to a level with her temples, and spread the silken 
sarong she wore over her head, so that it formed an elongated slit, 
covering every portion of the face but the eyes, and following the 
Princess in this uncomfortable guise they took their places ashore. 

“I have come to see the Resident,” said the Princess, looking very 
fixedly at Chumbley, and speaking in excellent English. “ Will you 
take mo to his presence ? ” 

Chumbley bowed, and he forgot his slow drawl as he said that he 
would be happy to lead her to the Residency ; but felt rather 
disconcerted as the visitor exclaimed, in a very pointed way : 

“ I have not seen you before. Are you the lieutenant ? ” 

“I have not had the pleasure of meeting you either,” he replied, 
rather liking the visitor’s dignified way as he recovered himself ; “but 
I have heard Mr. and Miss Perowne talk of the Inche Maida.” 

“ What did they say about me ? ” she said, sharply. 

That you were a noble lady, and quite a princess.” 


TIIE PAINS OF A PRINCESS. 


89 


“ All ! ” she replied, looking at him fixedly. “ How big and strong 
you arc.” 

Chumbley stared and tried to find something suitable to reply, but 
nothing came, and the situation seemed to him so comical that he 
smiled, and then, as the Princess smiled too, he laughed outright. 

Forgive my laughing,” he said, good-humouredly. “I can’t help 
being big ; and I suppose I am strong.” 

“There is the Resident!” said the lady then; and she drew her 
hand from Chumbley’s arm. “ Ah ! and tlie captain.” 

For just then Harley stepped out from the Residency veranda to 
meet his visitors ; and Hilton, who had found time to put on the 
regimental scarlet and buckle on his sword, came up to make the 
reception more imposing. 

The Princess shook hands in the European fashion, and accepted the 
Resident’s arm, smiling and bowing as if excusing herself to Hilton. 
Then, declining to enter the house, she took a seat in the broad veranda 
amongst the Resident’s flowers, while her women grouped themselves 
behind her, letting fall the sarongs they held over their faces now that, 
with the exception of a single sentry, none of the common soldiers were 
about to gaze upon their charms. 

Put for her costume, the Inche Maida would have passed very well 
for a dark Englishwoman, and she chatted on for a time about the 
Resident’s flowers and her own ; about her visits to the English ladies 
at the station ; and the various European luxuries that she kept adding 
to her home some twenty miles up the river, where she had quite a 
palm-tree palace and a goodly retinue of slaves. 

Both Mr. Harley and Hilton knew that there was some special object 
in the lady’s visit ; but that was scrupulously kept in the background, 
while coffee and liqueurs were handed round, the visitors partaking freely 
of these and the sweetmeats and cakes kept by the Resident for the 
gratification of his native friends. 

“It is nearly a year since you have been to see me, Mr. Harley,” 
said the lady at last. “ When will you come again ? ” 

“ I shall be only too glad to come and see you,” said the Resident. 
“ I have not forgotten the pleasure of my last journey to your home.” 

“And you will come too?” said the Princess, quickly; and she 
turned her great dark eyes upon Hilton, gazing at him fixedly the while. 

‘ ‘ I — er — really I hardly think I can leave.” 

“You will not come?” she cried, with an impetuous jerk of the 
head. “You think I am a savage, and you despise my ways. Mr. 
Harley will tell you I have tried for years to learn your English 
customs and to speak your language. It is not fair.” 

“Indeed,” cried Hilton, eager to make up for what the visitor 
evidently considered a slight, “ 1 only hesitated on the score of duty.” 

“ You would not care to come,” she said, with the injured look of a 
spoiled child. 

“ Indeed I should,” exclaimed Hilton, “ and I will come.” 

“ You will come ? ” she cried, with her dark eyes flashing. 

“ Yes, indeed I will.” 

She leaned towards him, speaking eagerly : 


90 


ONE MAID’S MlSCIIIEl^ 


I am glad. I like you English. You shall hunt and shoot. There 
are tigers, and I have elephants. Mj slaves shall find tigers, and you 
shall have my boat to fetch you.”> 

Dark as her skin was, the Resident noticed the red blood mantling 
beneath it in her cheeks as she spoke eagerly, fixing her eyes upon 
Hilton as she spoke, and then lowering the lids in a dreamy, thought- 
ful way. 

“ Then you will both come ?” she said. 

“ Yes, I promise for both ; but we cannot leave the station together,” 
said Mr. Harley. 

“ It is well,” she said, smiling ; “ and you too, lieutenant — you will 
come and see me ? You like to shoot. All Englishmen like to shoot.” 

“ Oh, yes. I’ll come,” said Chumbley, with his slow, heavy drawl. 
“ I think it would be rather joUy. Yes, I’ll come.” 

She nodded and smiled at him once more, as if he amused her; 
and Harley noticed that she glanced at Chumbley again and again 
as the conversation went on, looking at him as if he were some fine 
kind of animal she thought it would bo well to buy at the first 
opportunity. 

All at once, though, she turned sharply upon the Resident, and the 
object of her visit came out. 

“ I want you to help me,” she said, with an angry flash in her eye. 
“I am a woman, and I cannot fight, or I would not come to you for 
help. But you English are just. You have settled in our country, and 
your Princess says, ‘ Let there be no cruelty and ill-treatment of the 
people where you are.’ I have seen you for ten years, ever since I 
became a woman who could think and act ; but because I am a woman 
I am oppressed. Because I will not be his wife Rajah Hamet stops my 
people’s boats, and takes away tin and rice. His people beat my slaves 
and steal their fruit and fowls. Our lives become suffering, for my 
people are me. I am not a mother, but they call me mother, and 
they say, ‘ See, your children are robbed and beaten ; they moisten the 
dust of the earth with their tears.’ ” 

“ Ah ! ah ! ah ! ay ! ayo ! ” 

The three Englishmen started, for at these words of their Princess 
the Avomen burst into a piteous wail, and beat their breasts. 

“We suffer; I weep with my children,” continued the Princess, 
rising and holding out her hands as she went on speaking with a natural 
grace and fiery eloquence. “ I grow hot with anger, and I am ready to 
take my father’s kris and limbing and to go out against this coward 
who oppresses me ; but I am a woman, and 1 should lead my people to 
death. I cannot do this, but I think and think till the rage grows cold, 
and ray reason comes back, and I say, ‘ The great Queen loves her 
people, and she will not have them hurt. Her rulers, and counsellors, 
and warriors are in our country, and I will go to them and say. See, I am 
a woman— a princess. I pay you the tribute you ask of me, and I give 
you love and all I have tLit you ask. Save me, then, from this man. 
Teach him that he cannot rob and injure my people, and .so beat and 
injure me— a helpless woman.’. Will you do this, or shall 1 go back to 
my own place and say, ‘ The English are brave, but they will not help 


THE PAINS OF A PEINCESS. 


91 


me ? I am a woman, and you and your children must bear TOur 
lot.’ ” 

She ceased speaking and crossed her hands humbly upon her breast; 
but her eyes lit up as she saw that Chumbley — upon whom her words 
had had a remarkable effect — was watching the llesident keenly, and 
was evidently eager to speak. 

“ Princess,” said Mr. Harley, “ I am deeply grieved that you should 
have to make this appeal. I do not act in a matter of such grave im- 
portance as this without asking advice ; but that I will do at once, and 
believe me, if I could help it, you should not wait an hour for redress.” 

“ Not half an hour if I could have my way,” cried Chumbley, 
excitedly. “Princess, I hope we shall soon visit you for some purpose.” 

She smiled at him again, and nodded her satisfaction; but there was 
something very grave and earnest in her look as she almost timidly 
turned to Hilton. 

Ho saw the look, which was one of appeal, and seemed to ask for a 
reply. 

“ I, too,” he said, “ shoxxld gladly come to your assistance.” 

“ Then my task is done,” she said. “ Mr. Harley, pray give me your 
help, and my people shall be ready shoxxld evil days come, as they did 
when I was a mere girl, and the English were in peril of their lives.” 

“Princess, I will do my best,” he replied; and at a sign from their 
lady the women rose and stood ready to follow her back to her boat. 

“ Good-bye,” she said, simply, and she held oxit her hand, placing it 
afterwards xxpon Captain Hilton’s arm, as if she wished him to escort 
her down to the landing-stage. 

This he did, follow'ed by Chumbley, and on reaching the boat the 
rowers leaped to their places with the alacrity of well-drilled and dis- 
ciplined men. 

The Princess stood aside till the last of her attendants was in her 
place, and then she turned to Hilton. 

“ Good-bye,” she said. 

“Good-bye, Princess,” he replied, shaking her hand. “I hope wo 
shall have oi’ders to come to yoxir help.” 

“ So do I,” cried Chumbley, as he took the Princess’s hand in turn ; 
and as he uttered his earnest words he involuntarily raised her hand to 
his lips and kissed it v/ith profound respect. 

The Inehe Maida’s eyes flashed as she glanced at him, but they turned 
directly after with rather a regretful look at Hilton, as she seated herself 
beneath the awning. Then giving a signal with her hand, the rowers’ 
paddles dipped, the swift boat darted out into the stream, was deftly 
turned, and began to ascend rapidly ; the two young men standing xxpon 
the stage where the guard had preisented arms, both of them a good 
deal impressed. 

“ I say, old fellow,” cried Chumbley, speaking with animation, “ that’s 
an uncommonly fine woman, in spite of her coffee skin.” 

“ Yes ; you seemed to think so,” replied Hilton, laughing. 

“ Did I ? ” said Chumbley, with his eyes fixed upon the retreating boat. 

“Yes ; I never saw you so polite to a woman before.” 

“ Didn’t you? Well, but she is in trouble, poor thing; and I say 


92 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


hang it all, old man, how well she spoke out about her people — her 
children, and her wrongs.” 

“ Yes, it seems very hard, especially as I don’t think Harley will get 
instructions to interfere on her behalf.” 

“Not interfere!” cried Chumbley. “Then it will be a d d 

shame. My dear old man, if we don’t get orders to dress that fellow 
down, I’ll go up and see her myself, and instead of tiger-hunting I’ll try 
if I can’t punch the blackguard’s head.” 

“Why, Chumbley, old boy, what’s the matter with you I ” cried 
Hilton, laughing. 

“ Matter ? With me ? Nothing at all.” 

“ But you seem all on fire to go and help the Princess.” 

“Well, of course,” said the lieutenant, warmly ; “and so I would 
any woman who was in distress. Why, hang it all, a fellow isn’t 
worth much who wouldn’t run some risks to protect a woman.” 

“Hear, hear! Bravo! bravo! Why, Chumbley, you improve.” 

“ Stuff ! nonsense ! ” cried the latter, ashamed of his warmth. 

“ Stuff if you like, and prime stuff,” rejoined Hilton. “ It’s the sort 
of stuff of which I like to see men made. I have hopes of you yet, 
Chumbley. You will turn ladies’ man — grow smooth and refined.” 

“ And use a pouncet-box, eh ? ” 

“ No ; I draw the line at the pouncet-box and silk,” laughed Hilton. 

“ Never mind ! Chaff as much as you like. I’d go and help that Inche 
Maida. By Jove ! what a name for a woman ? ” 

“ Yes, it is a name for such a fine Cleopatra of a princess. I say, Chum, 
she seems to have taken quite a fancy to you ! ” 

“ To me, eh ? Well, I like that ! Oh, come ! ” laughed Chumbley. 
“ Why, I saw her lay her hand upon your arm as if she wanted it to 
stay there. I’ll swear I saw her squeeze your hand. No, my boy, it 
was your Hyperion curls that attracted her ladyship.” 

“ But I’ll vow I saw her take a lot of notice of you. Chum ! ” 

“ Yes, but it was becaxise I looked so big ; that was all, lad. She’s a sort 
of hen Frederick William of Prussia, who would adore a regiment of six- 
feet-six grenadiers. But never mind that; I think she ought to be helped.” 

“Yes,” said Hilton, quietly; “but I wish it was Murad who had 
done the wrong, for then I think that I should feel as warm as you — 
Well, what is it ? ’; 

“ Mr. Harley wishes to see you directly, sir,” said an orderly. 

“Come along, Chumbley; there’s news, it seems. What is it, 
Harley ? ” he continued, as they joined the Pesident in the veranda. 

“ I have just had news from a man 1 can trust. Murad is getting 
his people together, and I fear it means trouble.” 

“Let it come, then,” said Hilton, firmly. “ I’m rather glad.” 

“Glad! ’’said the Eesident, sternly; “and with all these women 
and children under our charge ! ” 

“ I was not thinking of them,” said Hilton, warmly, “but of chastis- 
ing a scoundrel who seems determined to be thrashed.” 

“ I hope he’ll bring the other fellow too,” said Chumbley. 

“Hilton — Chumbley!” said the Resident, sternly. “You think 
upon the surface. You do not realize what ail this trouble means 1 ” 


LlEUTEisANT CRUMBLE Y’S THOUGHTS. 


93 


CHAPTER XXV. 

LIEUTENANT CIIUMCLEy’s THOUGHTS, 

The news received by Mr. Harley had no following. Sultan Murad 
had undoubtedly gathered his people together, but as events proved, 
it w'as not to make a descent upon the station. 

But all the same, the conduct of the young Malay prince augmented 
the scare amongst the Europeans. Gray Stuart grew pale, and thought 
with feelings of horror of what might be the consequences of her 
schoolfellow’s folly. Helen, too, was in no slight degree alarmed, and 
the effect of the incident was to sober her somewhat for the time ; but 
as the da^'S glided on and nothing happened, the dread faded away 
like one of the opalescent mists that hung above the silver river at 
early morn. 

“It is all nonsense,” said Mr. Perowne; “the •prestige of the 
English is too great for this petty rajah to dare to attempt any savage 
revenge.” 

“Hah, you think so, do you? ” said old Stuart, in his most 
Scottish tones. “I never knew a tiger hesitate to bite or a serpent 
to sting because the pairson near him was an Englishman. Ye’ll 
hae to tak’ care o’ yon lassie o’ yours, Perowne, or she’ll get us into 
sad meeschief.” 

“If Mr. Stuart would kindly direct his attention to the instruction 
of his own daughter, papa, I am sure he would find his hands full,” 
said Helen, in a haughty, half-contemptuous tone, as she crossed the 
soft carpet unheard. 

“Oh, ye’re there are ye, lassie?” said the old Scot. “Weel, I’ll 
tell ye that my Gray kens how to behave, and don’t go throwing 
herself at the head of every gentleman she meets; and for your own 
sake, lassie, I wish your poor mither was alive.” 

Helen raised her eyes and looked at him for some moments with an 
angry, disdainful stare of resentment. 

“ Eh, ye’ve got bonnie een, lassie, verra bonnie een ; but I’d a deal 
rather see my Gray’s little wax tapers burning softly than tliose dark 
brimstone matches of yours ready to set every puir laddie’s heart 
ablaze.” 

“ Is this your friend, papa ? ” cried Helen ; and she swept from the 
room. 

“ Yes, lassie,” said the old Scot, wiping his eyes after laughing at 
his own conceit. “ Yes, I’m ye’r father’s best friend, lassie ; am I 
not, Perowne ?” 

“Yes, yes, of course,” said the merchant; “but you should not 
talk to her like that, Stuart.” 

“And why not?” said the old man. “Are we to let her go on 
setting fire to trains all over the place, and trying to get us blown in 
the air ?” 


94 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“Nonsense, nonsense! These fellows have sense enough to tnow 
what they may do and what they may not.” 

“ Oh, yes, they’ve plenty of sense,” agreed the old Scotch merchant. 

“ And they won’t forget in a hurry how we punished the other 
rajahs for their treacherous rising against the British power.” 

“ Yes, yes, I know all about that,” said the old man ; “ but Murad 
will not forget this insult to his pride, and I insist, Perowne, upon 
your keeping a tighter rein over that lassie.” 

Mr. Perowne seemed disposed to resist, but he ended by promising 
that he would ; and after a certain number of discussions in various 
houses, the cessation of all further proceedings, and a certain amount 
of worry consequent upon the apprehended danger, the old state of 
affairs began once more to prevail. 

The last to hold out was Mrs. Doctor Bolter, who exercised a great 
deal of watchfulness over her husband and brother, sending one after 
the other at the most incongruous times. 

So peace was once more settling down over Sindang, which rapidly 
began to resume its dreamy state, the only busy thing about the place 
being the river, which rapidly flowed onward towards the sea. 

The three ladies had grown somewhat accustomed to the sleepy life 
that nature compelled them to live in a land where, saving at early 
morn and at evening, any employment was only to be carried out by an 
extreme effort of will that very few there cared to exercise. 

A delicious, drowsy, lotus-eating life it seemed ; and as Helen 
Perowne and Gray Stuart sat beneath the shade of one of the delicious 
flower-bearing trees inhaling the cloying scents, and W'atching the 
eternal sparkle of the beautiful river, they could not help comparing 
it with their existence at the Miss Twettenham’s school. 

Tropic flowers, luscious fruits were there in profusion. Every day 
seemed to bring those of richer and rarer kinds. The garden was lush 
with a profusion of choice plants such as could only be produced in the 
hottest houses at home ; and Gray was fain to confess that in spite of 
the heat it was a lovely land. 

Still the alarm had been excusable, living as they were, a mere 
handful of strangers, amongst a people well known for their 
volcanic nature and quickness at taking offence, this latter being 
acknowledged by the Eajah himself, who completed the calm by 
coming in semi-state to the Kesidency island to ask Mr. Harley 
to make intercession for him with the Perownes. 

“I am wiser now,” he said, with a smile, “and I want to make 
amends.” 

This was said so frankly that, however suspicious he may have felt 
at heart, the Eesident at once accepted the task of intercessor. 

“I try so hard to be English in my ways,” said the young man, 
“ but it takes a long time to forget one’s old customs. As I used to 
be, I had everything I asked for directly ; I had only to say that I 
wanted this, or that I would have that, and I had it at once. But it 
is so different with you English. You always seem to be denying 
yourselves things you wish for, and think it great and good.” 

“Well, we do think it a virtue,” said the Resident, smiling. 


LIEUTENANT CHUMBLEY’S THOUGHTS. 


95 


' “ I \ras very angi^ when Mr. Perowne spoke to me as he did, and all 
my English education went away like a flash of a firefly in the night, 
and I was a savage once more ; but when I got back and thought, then I 
saw that I had been mad, and I was grieved, for the English are my 
friends.” 

“ Ah, well,” said Mr. Harley, “ that is all over now. I undertake 
to put matters right with Mr. Perowne ; but to be frank with vou. 
Hajah ” 

“ Yes, that is right, be frank. That is what I like in an English- 
man, he is frank and open. A Malay lets his secret thoughts be 
known — never.” 

“ I say, my friend,” exclaimed the Eesident, laughing, “ I hope that 
is not the case here.” 

“Oh, no, no, no!” exclaimed Murad. “Do I not tell you I am 
English, and I am trying to be like you 1” 

“ To be sure, yes,” said Mr. Harley. “ Well, then, look here, I do 
not undertake to make you such friends as you wdsh to be with Miss 
Perowne.” 

“You know all then ?” said the Eajah, quickly. 

“ Her father told me.” 

“Yes; you are his friend and counsellor; he would tell you of 
course. No ; I do not expect that. I was mad and foolish just then. 
I know, of course, that you whites would not ally yourselves with us. 
We are a dreaming nation, and I had dreamed of her love and being 
happy w'ith her amongst my people, making our alliance greater with 
you, but it was a dream. I am awake now, and it is past.” 

“ I don’t trust you. Master Murad,” said the Eesident to himself; 
“ but it is the best policy to seem to believe, and to try and malce you 
friends with us again, so I will undertake your commission,” 

“Look here,” he said aloud, “suppose you come across with me to 
Mr. Perowne’s house ? ” 

“Oh, no,” said the young Malay, shrinking back, “I should see 
her.” 

“ Very well ; and if you do, what then ? Come : you say you want to 
be English. Behave, then, now like an Englishman, taking your dis- 
appointment bravely, and let the lady see that you bear it with the 
calmness and consideration of a man.” 

“I will come,” said the Eajah, eagerly; and ho accompanied the 
Eesident across the branch of the river to Mr. Perowne’s handsome 
house, where the little explanation took place, and all parted the best 
of friends. 

The Eajah was evidently extremely eager to make amends for the 
burst of temper he had displayed, and presents of fruit, flowers, and 
the other productions of the country were constantly arriving by his 
servants. In some instances, so as to check any excuse that there 
might be for refusing or looking upon the presents as being pressed 
upon the English residents, the gifts were accompanied by requests for 
some little European luxury or for the loan of some article ; so that if 
the Eajah had it in his mind to allay suspicion, ho was pretty success- 
ful, and matters went on as they were before. Dr. Bolter went upon a 

7 


96 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


three days’ expedition, -vrliich, on account 'of the difficulties of the 
country, extended to six days, and he was forgiven. 

The Eesident sent a despatch 'to the Governor respecting the Incho 
Maida’s case, and the Governor sent back a despatch to say that he had 
referred the matter to the Colonial Office ; and the end of the piece of 
red tape was handed to the Malay Princess, who replied that she 
was willing to wait patiently for redress. 

Then there was a pause, and life at the little station seemed to flow 
on as calmly as the river ; but like the river, with its terrible reptiles 
lurking beneath the treacherously-smooth surface, so were there dangers 
beneath the calmly-flowing life of the British residents at the station, 
though they, prone as they were to take alarm, knew nothing, suspected 
nothing of what was in store. 

A month had passed since the little explosion of the Malay volcano, 
as Chumbley called it. There had been dinners and evening meetings, 
and the Kajah had been invited to several ; then Mr. Harley invited 
nearly everyone to a picnic down the river in his dragon-boat — a party 
that was pronounced delightful. 

This inspired the Bajah to imitate the Resident’s little party, and 
he sought out Chumbley and proposed to get up one on a more extensive 
scale, and take the party up the beautiful river as far as the rapids. 

“I don’t mind helping you,” said Chumbley, “but it will be an 
awful lot of trouble and precious hot.” 

He finished, however, by sjiying he would help, and being once 
roused, threw himself heart and soul into the matter, especially as the 
Rajah came the next morning to say that ho had had a visit from the 
Inehe Maida, who, on being told of the projected party, had proposed 
that the boats should pass up the river as far as her home, where she 
would have a Malay banquet prepared. 

This was agreed to, and the arrangements went on, it being con- 
sidered advisable to do all that wms possible to conciliate the native 
chiefs; and on the appointed day the Rajah’s two largest dragon-boats, 
with the rowers all in yellow satin jackets — the royal colour — w'ero at 
the landing-place of the station, and the Residency island. 

The embarkation was soon effected, and the merry party were being 
rapidly pulled along the light reaches of the winding river, whoso clear 
waters flashed in the bright sunshine, while the verdure-covered banks 
were rich with a profusion of the gayest blossoms, some of which 
emitted a delicious scent, plainly observable upon the boats. 

Helen Perowne looked handsomer than ever in a dress of the palest 
yellow silk, half hidden by artistic drapings of lace. 

Captain Hilton was always at her side ; while Chumbley, when he 
did rouse himself, tried to be a little attentive to Gray Stuart, who 
was in company with Mrs. Bolter. 

The latter lady was a good deal exercised in mind, consequent upon 
the Reverend Arthur insisting upon bringing his collecting-box, and 
the doctor his gun ; and also because, when the latter was not chatting 
with the ladies of the party, he was constantly finding out that such and 
such a woody point would be a splendid place for being set ashore, as the 
forest abounded with birds and insects rich in nature’s brightest dyes. 


LIEUTENANT CHUMBLEY’S THOUGHTS. 


97 


The Rajah was the perfection of gallantry and politeness, treating 
Helen Perowne with a grave* courtesy whenever ho approached her; 
and all was going on in the most satisfactory style, when Chumbley, 
who had made his way to the back of the palm-leaf awning that 
sheltered the party .in the boat from the torrid sun, waited his oppor- 
tunity, and then beckoned to the doctor. 

The latter stopped until Mrs. Bolter’s eyes were in another direction, 
and then stole behind the awning to where Chumbley was seating 
himself, with his back against the side of the boat, the steersman 
looking at his great proportions with admiration the while. 

“ "What is it, Chumbley ? ” said the doctor. “ Not poorly, eh ? ” 

“ Never better in my life, doctor ! Come, and have a cigar.” 

The doctor glanced forward, but they were completely hidden from 
sight ; and with a sigh of satisfaction, he took the cigar from Chumbley’s 
case, lit it, and choosing a comfortable place, seated himself. Then Irke 
the lieutenant, he half closed his eyes, and enjoyed the delicious motion 
of the rippling water with the glorious panorama of foliage they passed. 

“ I say, steersman, have a cigar ? ” said Chumbley, to the tall, swarthy 
Malay, in his picturesque yellow satin dress. 

The man did not understand his words, but he quite comprehended 
the act ; and he showed his betel-stained teeth as he took the proffered 
cigar, and lit it from the one the lieutenant placed in his hands. 

Then they went on and on, up glorious reach after reach of the river, 
startling reptiles on the banks, and bright-hued birds from the trees 
that overhung the stream. 

“I say, doctor,” said Chumbley at last, in his lazy drawl, “ what are 
you thinking about? ” 

“I was thinking that it can’t be long before my wife comes and finds 
me out.” 

There was a pause, during which Chumbley laughed to himself. 

“What are you thinking about, Chumbley?” said the doctor, 
suddenly. 

Chumbley looked up suddenly at the steersman. 

“ Do you understand any English at all, old fellow ? ” he said sudden- 
ly ; and the man shook his head. 

“I was thinking, doctor,” said Chumbley, in a low voice, “ what a 
go it would be if the Rajah has got us all in his boat here, and is taking 
us up the river never to come back any more.” 

“ What, on account of that upset a month ago ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Murder ! ” ejaculated the doctor. 

“ Yes,” said Chumbley, “ for us men ; but I think I should be more 
sorry for the other sex.” 


98 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


CILYPTER XXVL 

UP TUB RIVER. 

Doctor Bolter nearly let fall the cigar he -was smoking, for his jaw 
suddenly dropped ; but by a clever snatch of the hand he caught it, 
and replaced it in his lips, as he glanced at the showily-dressed steers- 
man to see if he had noticed the display of agitation. 

“ I say, Churabley, don’t be a stupid,” he said, in a low voice, as he 
brushed some of the cigar-ash from his white linen tunic, 

“ Certainly not,” replied the lieutenant, coolly. “I only said what 
I thought.” 

“But you don’t think such a thing as that possible, do you ? ” 

“ Don’t know. Can’t say. It’s rather awkward out here, though, 
to be in a place where you can’t call in the police if you want them.” 

“ Dear me ! Bless my soul ! ” ejaculated the doctor, taking his cigar 
in his hand, and looking at the burning end. “ But, oh, no ! it’s all 
nonsense. He wouldn’t dare to do such a thing.” 

“ No,” drawled Chumbiey ; “ I don’t suppose he would.” 

“ Then why the dickens did you put forth such an idea ? ” cried the 
doctor, angrily. “ Bah ! that’s the worst cigar I ever smoked.” 

He threw it over the side, and it gave an angry hiss as it fell into 
the water. 

“Try another, doctor,” said Chumbiey, offering his case. “It’s of 
no use to make yourself miserable about it if it is as I say.” 

“But the ladies I” cried the doctor. “My poor little wife,” he 
added, softly. 

“ Well, they would be no better off if we make ourselves wretched,” 
said Chumbiey, coolly. 

“ Eight away from all help ! Not so much as a bottle of quinine at 
hand ! ” exclaimed the doctor. 

“ Ah, that’s a pity,” said Chumbiey. “ Here, light a fresh cigar, 
man, and don’t look like that amiable person who pulled Priam’s 
curtains in the dead of the night. Come, doctor, I thought you fellows 
were always calm.” 

“ So we are,” cried the doctor, feeling his own pulse. “ Ninety- 
four 1 That’s pretty good for this climate. Yes, I’ll take another 
cigar. But I say, Chumbiey, this is very awkward.” 

“ AVould be very awkward, you mean.” 

“ Yes, of course. And we are all unarmed.” 

“Well, not quite all,” said Chumbiey. “ Being a sort of man-at- 
arms — a kind of wasp amongst the human insects — I always carry my 
sting.” 

“ What ! have you anything with you ? ” 

“Pistol and a few cartridges,” replied Chumbiey, coolly. 

“And I should have had my gun. You know my little double- 
barrelled Adams, don’t you ? ” 

“Yes; the one with the dent in the stock.” 


UP THE RIVER. 


99 


That’s the one, my lad ! Well, I should have had that with me 
if it had not been for Mrs. Bolter. I wanted to bring it, so as to collect 
a little, and she said it was folly, so I had to put it away. Have the 
others any arms ? ” 

“ Two apiece,” said Chumbley, coolly, “ Fleshy.” 

“And you can joke at a time like this?” exclaimed the doctor 
excitedly, while the swarthy steersman looked down at him wonder- 
ingly. 

“ Well, where’s the use of doing anything else about what was only 
a passing fancy on my part. Come, doctor, smoko your cigar in peace. 
Perhaps, after all, Murad means to be as amiable as host can be, and 
we shall all get back to the station, having found no worse enemies 
than the sun and the champagne.” 

“ Champagne ? Nonsense, man. We shall have to drink palm 
wine.” 

‘ ‘ Perhaps so ; but I’ll make an affidavit, as the lawyers call it, that 
there are half a dozen cases on board with the brand Pjungst^ Epernay 
upon them, and ” 

“Look — look!” exclaimed the doctor, laying his hand upon his 
companion’s arm. 

“ What — what at ? ” said Chumbley, coolly. “ I don’t see anything 
dangerous.” 

“Dangerous — no! Look at that tree laden with blossoms to the 
water's edge.” 

“Yes, I see it. Very pretty. Can you see a tiger’s nose poking 
through ? ” 

“No, no, man; but look at the magnificent butterflies — four of 
them. Why, they must be nine inches across the wings. Where’s 
Rosebury ? ” 

“ Oh ! come, doctor : you are better,” exclaimed Chumbley, smiling. 
“ That’s right ; don’t think any more about my scare.” 

“ This trip is completely spoiled,” exclaimed the doctor, excitedly. 
“No shooting — no collecting! Oh! for goodness’ sake, look at that 
bird, Chumbley ! ” 

“ What, that little humpbacked chap on the dry twig ? ” 

“ yes.’» 

“ Hah ! he looks as if he has got the pip.” 

“ My dear fellow, that’s one of the lovely cinnamon-backed trogons. 
Look at his crimson breast and pencilled wings.” 

. “Yes, very pretty,” said Chumbley; “but I often think, doctor, 
that I’d give something to see half a dozen sooty London sparrows in a 
genuine old English fog.” 

“ Nonsense, man. There, too — look ! ” he cried, pointing, as like a 
streak of white light a great bird flew across the river. “ That’s a 
white eagle. I never have such chances as this when I’m out 
collecting.” 

“ S’pose not,” said Chumbley, drily. “ It’s always the case when a 
fellow has no gun. Precious good job for the birds.” 

“Oh! this is maddening!” cried the doctor. “Look — look at 

that, Chumbley,” and he pointed to the dead branch of a tree, upon 


100 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


■\vhicli a bird eat motionless, with the sun’s rays seeming to flash from 
its feathers. 

Yes, that is rather a pretty chap,” said Churabley. “ Plays lawn 
tennis evidently. Look at his tail.” 

“Yes, that is one of the lovely racket-tailed kingfishers, Chumbley. 
Ah ! I wish, my dear boy, you had a little more taste for natural 
history. That is a very, very rare specimen, and I’d give almost 
anything to possess it.” 

“Aren’t those long feathers in his w'ay when he dives after fish ? ” 
said Chumbley. 

“There it is, you see,” cried the doctor. “You unobservant men 
display your ignorance the moment you open your lips. These Malay 
kingfishers do not dive after fish, but chase the beetles and butterflies.” 

“Poor beetles ! and poor butterflies ! ” said Chumbley, with his eyes 
half closed. “I say, doctor, this is very delightful and dreamy. I 
begin to wish I was a rajah somewhere up the river here, with plenty 
of slaves and a boat, and no harassing drills, and tight uniform, and no 
one to bully me — not nven a wife. I say, old fellow, if I am missing 
some day, don't let them look for me, because I shall have taken to 
the jungle. I’m sick of civilization and all its shams.” 

“Hallo I you two,” cried a voice. “Come, I say, this isn’t fair. 
Here they arc, Hilton.” 

It was the Resident wfiio spoke, and Captain Hilton also appeared 
the next moment, the four gentlemen so completely filling up the 
spaeo that the steersman hardly had room to work his oar. 

“It’s all right,” said Chumbley, coolly. “The doctor was giving 
me a lesson in natural history.” 

“ With the help of a cigar,” said Hilton. “ Shall we join them, 
Harley ? ” 

“ Yes — no. We had better get back. The Rajah might think 
himself slighted if we stayed away.” 

“ Yes, you’re right,” exclaimed Chumbley ; and getting up slowly, 
they all made their way back to the covered-in portion of the boat, 
where the beauties of the river were being discussed, and where Hilton 
found a seat beside Helen Perowne. 

“ How nice little Stuart looks in her white dress ! ” thought Chumbley 
to himself. “ A fellow might do worse than marry her. Humph! la 
Mr. Rajah Murad going to try it on there, as he has been disappointed 
in Helen Perowne ? No ; it is only civility. ’Pon my word the fellow 
is quite the natui’al gentleman, and can’t have such ideas in his head a^ 
those for which I gave him credit.” 

Churabley chatted first with one and then with another ; while in 
his soft, quiet W'ay, looking handsome and full of desire to please his 
guests, the Rajah throw off his Eastern lethargy of manner, and 
seemed to bo constantly on the watch for some fresh way of adding 
to the pleasures of the trip. 

Not that it wanted additions, for to sit there in the shade, listening 
to the plash of oars and the musical ripple of the clear water against the 
sides of the boat, while the ever-changing panorama of green trees 
waving, rich white blossoms, with now and then a glimpse of purple 


UP THE EIVER. 


101 


mountain and palo blue hazy hill, -was sufScIently interesting to gratify 
the most exacting mind. 

Notv and then they passed a native village or campong, with its 
bamboo houses raised on platforms, the gable-ended roofs thatched 
•with palm-leaves, and the walls frequently ingeniously woven in 
checkered patterns with strips of cane. The boats attached to posts or 
palm-tree trunks told of the aquatic lives of the people, this being a 
roadless country, and the rivers forming the highway from village to 
village or town to town. 

The easy motion of the boat, the musical ripple of the water, the 
rhythmical sweep of the oars, and the ever-changing scenery in that 
pure atmosphere, redolent with the almost cloying scent of the flowers, 
seemed to produce its effect on all, and the conversation soon gave place 
to a dreamy silence in which the beauty of the river was watched 
with half-closed eyes, till after some hours* rowing against stream, a 
loud drumming and beating of gongs was heard, making the doctor and 
Chumbley exchange glances, and the former whispered to the lieutenant : 

Does that mean mischief ? ” 

Don’t know : can’t say,” was the reply. ** It may mean w^elcorae. 
All Tve can do is to keep quiet and our eyes open, then we shall see.” 

**Very philosophical, but precious unsatisfactory,” muttered the 
doctor, as the boats went on towards where a cluster of houses showed 
their pointed roofs amidst the cocoa-palm, and here a couple of flags 
were flying, one yellow, the other the familiar union-jack ; while under 
the trees could bo seen a party of gaily-dressed women, among whom, 
by the aid of a lorgnette, Hilton could make out the tall, commanding 
figui*e of the Malay Princess. 

“Looks more like peace than war,** thought Chumbley, as the boats 
neared the landing-place — a roughly-constructed platform of bamboo, 
alongside of which the steersman cleverly laid the first naga, the second 
boat being steered beside the first and there made fast. The Inche 
Maida, with her female attendants, then' came slowly up between two 
lines of her slaves to welcome wdth floral offerings the party of guests. 

“ Oh, it’s all nonsense, Chumbley,” whispered the doctor to the 
lieutenant. 

“Yes, I think it is,” was the reply, “unless,” he added, with a ' 
laugh, “they come one of the Dorgia tricks and poison the cups. I 
mean to drink with the Princess, so as to be safe.” 

“ I don’t mean to think any more about it,” said the doctor. ^ 

As there was a good deal of ceremony observed by the Princess in 
■coming to meet them, something in the form of a procession was made, 
the Kajah with great courtesy and good taste offering his arm to the 
oldest lady of the party — Mrs. Doctor Bolter ; and the pleasant little 
lady flushed slightly as she was led up to the Princess, who took her 
by the hands, kissed her on both cheeks, bidding her welcome and thank- 
ing her for coming, and then talcing a magnificent bouquet of sweet- 
scented flowers from one of her attendants, she presented it to her 
guest. 

Chumbley was one of the next to approach with the lady of a 
merchant settled at the station ; and the Princess’s eyes fiasheil as the 


102 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


bright look of welcome to the great manly young fellow changed into 
one of anger. 

It was but a flash though, and the next moment she was smiling as 
if in contempt of her suspicions, for the lady Chumbley escorted was 
sallow and grey, and the greeting to her was made as warm and 
affectionate as that to the doctor’s lady. 

Then the Princess held out her plump, brown, well-shaped hand to 
Chumbley. 

“I am glad to see you,” she said, with a smile, and her eyes seemed 
to rest with satisfaction upon his goodly proportions. “Take that,” 
she added, as she removed a great yellow jasmine sprig from her rich 
black hair ; and Chumbley bowed, and placed it in his buttonhole. 

They passed on, and other guests approached to be presented to the 
Princess in this sylvan drawing-room, held in the pale green light of 
the shade beneath the palms and lacing ferns, through which an arrowy 
rain of silver threads of sunlight seemed to be ever falling, flashing and 
scintillating the while. 

The Kesident was greeted with the most friendly warmth ; and Gray, ' 
who held his arm, was folded in quite a w'arm embrace. The choicest 
bouquet of sweetly-scented flowers being placed in her hands, the fair 
English girl flushed with pleasure as her tawny hostess said, softly : 

“ Don’t go away. Miss Stuart. You will stay and sit near me.” 

“You seem to have thoroughly won the Inehe Maida’s heart. Miss 
Stuart,” said the Kesident, looking smilingly into his companion’s face. 

“I like her very much,” replied Gray. “She seems to be very 
natural and feminine. 1 hope she means it all.” 

“ Yes ; it would be unpleasant to find out that it was all glaze,” said 
the Resident, thoughtfully. “But do you know,” he continued, speak- 
ing very slowly, and watching the continuation of the reception the 
while, “I think she is a very jolly, good-hearted sort of woman, and — 

I — should — think — she — is — ^very genuine. Yes,” he added, after a 
pause, and speaking now quiSkly, “I am sure now that she has no 
more dissimulation in her than a fly. What do you say ? ” 

“ Oh, Mr. Harley, what does that moan ? ” 


CHAPTER XXVIl. 

THE FOREST BANQUET. 

Gray Stuart’s exclamatory question was drawn from her as she, like 
the resident, watched the way in which the Princess continued to 
receive her guests. 

Gray, in obedience to Inche Maida’s request, had remained with the 
Resident close by, where they had an excellent view of what was 
taking place, and as, rather flattered by her reception, Gray looked on, 
a pang shot through her breast, as she saw that almost the next couple 
to advance were Captain Hilton and Helen Perowne, the former looking 
flushed and happy as he walked proudly forward with his handsome 


THE FOREST BANQUET. 


103 


companion upon his arm ; the latter with her red lip slightly curled 
and her eyelashes half shading her large eyes, as she seemed to be 
superciliously, and with a contemptuous air, smiling at the people she 
looked upon as far beneath her and hardly worthy of her consideration. 

As the Princess saw them approach — the most goodly couple of the 
company — her eyes seemed to dart a furious flash at Hilton, and then 
to become fixed and hard as her features, as she encountered the super- 
cilious gaze of Helen Perowne. 

For a brief space she paused, as if too angry to continue her task. 
The pause was but momentary : for, apparently making an effort over 
herself, she received Helen Perowne with a grave, almost majestic 
courtesy,^ taking a bouquet from an attendant and handing it to her 
with a slight inclination of the head ; while Helen Perowne made her 
the deportment courtesy that she had been taught at Miss Twettenharas’, 
throwing into it the dignity of a queen. 

“ Enemies ! ” said the Resident to himself. “ Strange how women 
read each other’s thoughts ! ” 

The Princess darted a quick, reproachful glance at Hilton, and then 
the couple passed to the other side of the hostess as others advanced 
and the Resident made his comment upon the Princess, while Gray 
Stuart exclaimed, in an eager whisper: 

“ Oh ! Mr. Harley, what does all this mean ? ” 

“ Another diplomatic complication apparently, my dear child,” he 
said. “ Why, you and I ought to be very happy and contented to feel 
that we are not of an inflammable nature and are heart-whole.” 

“But, Mr. Harley,” said Gray Stuart, colouring slightly, “I do 
not understand it.” 

“And you will not give me time to explain,” he said laughingly. 
“ Perhaps I am w’rong, but it seems to me that just as we have com- 
fortably got over the little piece of incendiarism done upon the Rajah 
Murad’s heart by the lightning of Helen Perowne’s eyes, the Inche 
hlaida has singed her tawny wings in the light of the handsome brown 
optics of Master Hilton.” 

“Oh! but, Mr. Harley,” said the girl, hoarsely, “you don’t think 
that ” 

“ She has taken a fancy to him ? ” said the Resident quickly. “ In- 
deed, my dear, but I do.” 

“I— I did not mean that,” faltered Gray. “ I meant, did you think 
— he had trifled with the Princess ? ” 

“ No, certainly not,” said the Resident sternly, and his voice was very 
cold and grave as he spoke ; “ but I do see one thing, and that is, that 
it is an utter mistake to have a pack of handsome young officers and 
good-looking girls about the station. It makes my duties twice as 
hard,” he continued firmly, “for we have no secret instructions, no 
Colonial Office despatches that deal with the unions of the sexes ; and if 
this sort of thing is going on, I shall have to ask the Government to 
send me out an assistant-resident well schooled in affairs of the heart.” 

He smiled griml^rnow, and there was a faint reflection of his smile in 
Gray Stuart’s face as she looked up at him rather piteously, as if to see 
whether he w’as in earnest or in jest. 


104 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


Further private remark was stopped by the’ Princess greeting hef last 
guests, and then turning to lead the way towards w'hat was literally 
her palm-tree palace in the jungle. 

“ You will stay with me, will you not ? ” she said, laying her hand 
affectionately upon Gray Stuart’s arm ; and she smiled down at the fair 
Scottish girl, who looked up at her in a half-doubting fashion ; but 
dreading to show her feelings she took the offered hand, and the Prin- 
cess led the way, the Eajah following with Mrs. Bolter, and the others 
bringing up the rear. They passed through quite an arcade cut in the 
wood, whose rich growth of wondrous canes and creepers was rapidly 
encroaching upon the narrow space, and sending out long waving 
strands as if in greeting to others upon the opposite side. 

At intervals were openings where the green twilight was brightened 
by patches of sunshine ; and here, amidst the rich green mosses sprang 
up patches of many-tinted pitcher-plants, while on the trunks of the 
huge forest-trees clustered orchids of w-ondrous shape and hue. Eight 
and left was the jungle, dense and utterly impenetrable, except by 
cutting a way through ; and as they passed along this shady tunnel, 
the greens of some of the lov/er shrubs seemed to be of a velvety black- 
ness that had a charming effect. 

At last a patch of bright sunshine could be seen, showing the end of 
the woodland arcade, and beyond this, framed, as it were, the Inche 
Maida’s home, with its high-pitched gabled roofs, chequered walls, 
woven windows, and palm-tree thatch, stood out bright aud clear. 

As they drew nearer they found that the house was placed on the 
farther side of a large lake that was literally ablaze with the crimson and 
golden blossoms of a kind of lotus, while its shores were fringed with 
an arrowy gorgeously-spotted calladium, the sui’face of whose leaves 
seemed burnished and silvered in the sun. 

“ I say, doctor,” said Chumbley suddenly, “ it doesn’t seem such a 
very bad place for a picnic ; aud if they do mean mischief I hope it will 
not be till after we have had a good feed.” 

“ Hungry ? ” said the doctor. 

“ Atrociously ! I could eat the Inche Mai da herself.” 

“ She looked to me as if she could eat you,” said the doctor. “I 
say, though, Chumbley, that was all nonsense of yours ; the Eajah’s 
as square as a cube. Not half a bad fellow ; says he’s coming to 
consult me about some of his symptoms, and is going to get me to 
put him right. Precious stupid of you to put such an idea in a fellow’s 
head.”^ 

“ Pitch it out, then,” said the lieutenant coolly. 

“ I’ve done it, my boy. I say, Chumbley, I’m like you, precious 
hungry too. Look out for the sambals, my boy, and the curry. You’ll 
get them all in delicious trim, I’ll be bound. They say the Inche 
Maida keeps a capital cook, and I think it was a splendid idea to bring 
us here. The dinner will be ten times better than in a boat or on the 
shore. I say, my dear boy, what a tip-top place ! Why, if I were a 
bachelor, I wouldn’t mind marrying the Inche Maida myself, and suc- 
ceeding to all her estates.” 

“It really is a charming place,” said Chumbley thoughtfully. “ A 


THE FOREST BANQUET. 


105 


man might make himself very jolly here. There’s plenty of fishing, 
and shooting, and ” ° 

“He could learn to chew betel, and smoke opium, and settle down 
into an Eastern dreamer,” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Chumbley, quietly. “He might make 
himself a sort of example to the people, and do a deal of good.” 

“ Yes,” said the doctor drily, “ or let them do him a lot of harm. 
Hallo ! where are the ladies going ? ” 

“ Oh, up to the rooms, I suppose,” said Chumbley. “I expect the 
Princess does things in style. I wouldn’t bet a sovereign that she has 
not got a regular dining-room and drawing-room w'itli a Broadwood 
piano.” 

“ I don’t care a dump what she has got so long as she has a good 
cellar and a good kitchen,” replied the doctor, “for I’m ravenous.” 

“ Grentlemen,” said the Rajah, coming forward, “ the Princess begs 
me to act as host. Will you come indoors until the dinner is ready to 
be served ? ” 

“ There, doctor,” whispered Chumbley, “ I told you so ; ” and they 
followed the smiling Rajah into the drawing-room of the Inche Maida^s 
house — a large, roomy apartment, kept cool by mat-covered windows, 
and whose polished bamboo floor would have delighted a modern 
{esthete. 

The place was a strange compound of Malay and European customs, 
sho^’^'y articles of French furniture being mixed up with the mats and 
hangings made by the natives ; but everywhere tnere were traces of 
the Princess possessing an ample income to enable her to indulge in any 
little whims or fancies in the way of decorative art. 

But the group of gentlemen had hardly had time to look round before 
the Inche Maida appeared with her lady guests, and not being accustomed 
to the etiquette of modern society, led the "way to a lofty room, in the 
middle of which, upon English table linen, was spread such a repast as 
would have satisfied the most exacting ; and about this the party took 
their seats upon the soft mats in the best way they could, for there 
was neither chair nor table. 

Still it was a picnic party, so everyone was, or professed to be, 
satisfied. 

The Princess made a place beside her for Gray Stuart, and Captain 
Hilton had paused with Helen Perowne right at the other end of the 
room. For a moment or two, with rather lowering looks, the hostess 
seemed disposed to acquiesce in this, but a sudden flush animated her 
face, and she sent one of her slaves to request that the couple would 
come up higher, making room for Hilton by her side on the right — 
Ilelen being again on Hilton’s right. 

For a few minutes the repast was eaten in silence, but the doctor, 
who was in excellent spirits, started the conversation, and the next 
moment there w'as a regular buzz mingled with laughter ; for the 
Princess threw off all appearance of annoyance, and with the Rajah, 
devoted herself eagerly to the comforts of her guests. 

It was a novel and piquant affair ; the pale, dim light of the palm- 
thatched room, with its w’uving cocoa-trees seen through the open win- 


106 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


dows ; the comparative coolness after, the ’walk through the jangle, 
and above all, the quaint mingling of culture and half-savage life made 
the visitors delighted with the scene. 

Then, too, the repast was unexceptionable. The very poorest Malays 
are clever cooks, and have excellent ideas upon the best ways of pre- 
paring a chicken ; while the slaves of the Princess had placed such 
delicious curries and other eastern dishes before the hungry visitors, 
that one and all fell to without giving further thought as to the 
strange kitchen in which everything had been prepared. 

Delicious sweets and confections, cool acid drinks, evidently prepared 
from fresh fruits, with an abundance of palm and European wines were 
there ; and the fruits alone would have been a sufficient attraction for 
the guests. 

Durians, those strange productions of the fruit-world, that on being 
opened reveal to the eater so many chestnut-like seeds lying in a 
cream-like pulp — the said pulp tasting of sweet almonds, well-made 
custard, sherry, cheese, old shoes, sugar and garlic formed into one 
delicious whole. 

Mangosteens, with their glorious nectarine aroma, and plantains or 
bananas of the choicest flavoured kinds; these, mingled with other 
fruits luscious and sweet to a degree, but whose names were unknown 
to the guests, formed a dessert beyond compare. 

Chumbley, seeing that a good deal of the Eesident’s attention was 
taken up elsewhere, divided his time between talking to Gray Stuart 
and watching the Malay Princess, upon whose countenance not a shade 
of her former annoyance remained. 

Every now and then, as her eyes w^andered about, she caught 
Chumbley ’s glance as he watched her, and she always met it with a 
frank, open smile, and begged his acceptance of fruit or wine. 

At the same time she was constant in her attentions to Hilton and 
Helen Perowne, selecting choice fruits for them with her own hands, 
and pressing them to eat. 

“ W ell. Miss Stuart, is not this a novelty ? ” said Chumbley at last. 
“ What do you think of it all ? ” 

Gray Stuart, who had been making a brave effort to appear bright 
and free from care, replied that it was all very delightful and strange. 

“It seems so different from anything I have ever seen before ! ” sHe 
said, with animation. 

“Beats a lawn-party and tennis in the old country hollow! ” said 
Chumbley. “ What a capital hostess the Princess is ? ” 

“She seems to take so much kindly interest in — in ” said Gray. 

“ In you, you mean,” said the great fellow, smiling. 

“ Oh, no,” said Gray, naively, “ I think it was in you.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” replied Chumbley, thoughtfully; “she has 
been very attentive and kind certainly, but then she has been far more 
so to Hilton and Miss Perowne. Why, I saw her peel an orange for 
old Hilton with her own fair — I mean dark fingers.” 

“I suppose it is the Malayan W'ay of showing courtesy to a guest,” 
said Gray, in an absent tone of voice, as her eyes were wandering from 
Captain Hilton to Helen Perowne and back ; and then, in spite of her- 


THE FOEEST BANQUET. 


107 


self, she sighed gently, a fact that did not pass unnoticed by Chumbley, 
who made of it a mental note. 

Meanwhile the half-savage banquet went on with fresh surprises 
from time to time for the guests, who were astonished at the extent 
to which the Malay Princess had adopted the best of our English 
customs. 

Perhaps the most critical of all was Mrs. Bolter, who did not scruple 
about making whispered remarks to her brother about the various 
delicacies spread around. 

“It Henry does not come soon, Arthur,” she whispered, “I shall 
send you to fetch him. By the way, those sweets are very nicely made. 
Taste them.” 

“Thank you, dear Mary, no,” he said, quietly, as he turned an un- 
tasted fruit round and round in his long, thin fingers. 

“ Arthur, how can you be so absurd ? ” whispered his sister. “ The 
people will be noticing you directly.” 

“What have I done, my dear Mary?” he replied, looking quite 
aghast. 

“Nothing b\it stare at Helen Perowne,” she said, in a low angry 
voice. “ Surely you don’t want her to flirt with you ! ” 

“Hush, Mary ! ” he said, gravely. “ Your words give me pain.” 

“ And your glances at that proud, handsome, heartless creature give 
me pain, Arthur,” she replied, in the same tone. “ I cannot bear it.” 

The Reverend Arthur sighed, let his eyes rest upon his fruit, raised 
tliem again, and found himself in time to arrest an arrow-like glance 
from Helen’s eyes sent the whole length of the table, and he closed his 
own and shuddered as if the look had given him a pang. 

“ I cannot get Henry to look at me,” whispered Mrs. Bolter after a 
time. “ He seems quite guilty about something, and ashamed to meet 
rry eye. Arthur, I am sure he is drinking more wine than is good for 
his health.” 

“Oh, no, my dear Mary,” replied her brother, “Surely Henry 
Bolter knows how to take care of his constitution.” 

“ I don’t know that,” said the little lady, with asperity, “and he 
keeps talking to the Princess more than I like.” 

She telegraphed to the little doctor with her eyes, but in vain ; ho 
evaded summons after summons, and Mrs. Bolter began to grow 
wroth. 

Suddenly she saw him give a bit of a start, and he seemed to be 
watching the slaves, who were carrying round trays of little china cups 
full of some native wine. 

Chumbley saw it too, and for a moment he felt excited, but directly 
after he laughed it off. 

“ The doctor thinks that the Borgia dose is going round,” he said to 
himself, but half aloud, and Gray caught a portion of his words and 
turned pale. 

“ Borgia ? ” she faltered, turning to him. “ Do you mean poison ? ” 

“ Did you hear my words ? ” he said, quickly. “ Oh, it was only 
nonsense.” 

“ But you think there is poison in those little cups, Mr. Chumbley ? 


103 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


Quick ! stop him ! ” she gasped, with an agohised look. “ Mr. Hilton 
is going to drink. Too late ! too late ! 

“Hush, Miss Stuart, be calm,” whispered Chumbley; “you will 
draw attention to yourself. I tell you it is all nonsense : a foolish 
fancy. Hero is a tray,” he continued, as a slave came up. “Now see, 
I will drink one of these cupfuls to convince you.” 

“ And I will drink too ! ” she cried, excitedly; and Chumbley stared 
to see so much fire in one whom he had looked upon as being tame and 
quiet to a degree. 

“ No ; don’t you drink,” he said, in a low voice. 

“ Then you do believe there is danger ? ” she said, excitedly. 

“ I do and I do not,” he replied, in the same low tone. “ There,” he 
said, tossing off the contents of the cup, which was filled wdth a 
delicious liqueur, “ I don’t think so now ; but I would not drink if I 
were you.” 

As the words left his lips Gray Stuart raised the little cup to her 
mouth, slowly drained it, and set it down. 

Chumbley’s brow contracted, but he could not help admiring the 
girl’s firmness. 

“ Do you like my wine?” said a voice then, and the lieutenant 
started on finding that the Princess had been narrowly w'atching 
them. 

“ Yes, it is delicious,” he said, smiling. 

“ I drink to you, as you English do,” she said, taking a cup from 
the same tray as that which had borne those of Chumbley and Gray 
Stuart. “ I drink to your health — you two,” she said again, and she 
seemed to drain the cup. “ Do you not think it good ? ” she said, in 
a low voice, and with a singularly impressive smile. “ Surely you do 
not think I would give poison to my friends.” 


CHAPTER XXYIIL 

AFTER THE FEAST. 

Tub Inche Maida turned her head just then to reply to some remark 
made by Captain Hilton, and Chumbley took advantage thereof to 
whisper to his companion : 

“The Princess must have understood what we said. How provoking 
that I should have uttered such a foolish remark! Why, I quite 
frightened you ! ” 

“I w^as a little alarmed,” faltered Gray, who seemed agitated. “ It 
sounded so very dreadful, Mr. Chumbley,” she added, after a pause. 
“ You have always been so kind and gentlemanly to me, may I ask a 
favour ? ” 

“To be sure,*’ he replied. 

She paused again, and he saw that she was growing more agitated, 
and that she could hardly speak. 

“ I want you to promise me 


AFTER THE FEAST. 


109 


Here she stopped again, and looked piteously in his face, her lips 
refusing to frame the words she wishetl to say. 

“You wish me to proraiso never to take notice of the secret you 
betrayed just now, Miss Stuart ? ” 

She nodded quickly, and her eyes sought his in a pleading way that 
set him thinking of what her feelings must be for Hilton. 

“ Give me the credit of being a gentleman, Miss Stuart,” he said, at 
last, quietly. 

“ I do — I do ! she said, eagerly. Indeed I do, Mr. Chnmblev !’’ 

“ I am an old friend of Captain Hilton. We knew one another when 
we were quite lads, and 1 exchanged into this regiment so that we 
might be together. He's a very good fellow, is Hilton, although he 
has grown so hot-headed and liable to make mistakes. I like him 
for many reasons, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to have learned 
what I have to-day.” 

“ Pray say no more, Mr. Chumbley,” said Gray, with a troubled 
look. 

“ But I shall say more, even at the risk of being considered rude,” 
continued Chiimbley. “ He is making a great mistake, just as a 
great many more men have made the same blunder.” 

Gray tried to speak, but the words would not come. 

“ He'll wake up some day,” continued Chumbley. ** At present his 
eyes are dazzled.” 

“ Mr. Chumbley !” said Gray, in a low, earnest, appealing tone. 

She only uttered the young officer's name, but the way in which it 
was spoken sufficed, and ho bowed his head in answer, and for the next 
few minutes neither spoke. 

“ Miss Stuart, you may trust me,” he said, at last. 

“I do, Mr. Chumbley,” she replied, and a conscious feeling of pride 
and satisfaction thrilled the young soldier, as ho looked in the frank 
gray eyes. 

The conversation went buzzing on all around, nobody seeming to 
notice him ; and Chumbley began to commune with himself as ho 
gazed straight before him now. 

“She's taken with Hilton,” he said. “ There’s no mistake about it. 
Now, why didn’t the little maid take a fancy to me ? She’s very nice 
— very nice indeed ; and I think she would be as earnest and truthful 
as a woman could be. Isn’t my luck, though — no, not my luck. 

“By Jove, what an idiot that Hilton is,” he continued, as he 
glanced at the young officer, who did not seem to be aware of the fact 
that anyone was present but Helen, whose every look and gesture were 
watched with rapt attention ; while from time to time she seemed to 
rouse herself from her languid indilleieat way, and repay him with a 
smile. 

It was rather a cxtrious scene, and as she recovered from the agita- 
tion consequent upon her little encounter with Chumbley, Gray Stuart 
read a good deal of what was going on around. 

It seemed to her that Helen Perowne, w'hom she had promised their 
old instructresses to befriend and aid, was the principal object of 
attraction to all. She felt no jealousy on this account, only a curious 


no 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


sense of trouble. Her affection for Helen was as great as ever, but 
always there seemed to be a gathering cloud of trouble right ahead, 
and in an undefined way this seemed to gather and threaten them both. 

Sometimes her eyes fell upon little Mrs. Bolter, who appeared far from 
enjoying the day, but to be ready at any moment to go in quest of the 
doctor, who kept leaving his seat to chat with someone at another 
part. 

There was always a smile for Gray though, whenever Mrs. Bolter 
caught her eye, and the exchange of glances seemed to comfort tho 
little lady for the time. 

The next minute Gray would see that the Rajah was looking in Helen’s 
direction, and she trembled at the idea of further trouble arising; 
but the Malay’s thoughts were hidden beneath a set smile, which did 
duty on all occasions now, and was bestowed upon Helen, upon the 
Princess, Mrs. Bolter, even upon the watcher in turn. 

Then, as she saw how impressive were Captain Hilton’s attentions. 
Gray sighed softly, and in remembrance of what had been said at 
Mayley&ld, she told herself that perhaps the best thing that could 
happen to Helen would be for her to become the young officer’s wife. 

Just then Chumbley turned to her, and as if their conversation had 
had no pause — 

“Let me add this,” he continued, “Hilton is one of the best 
fellows that ever breathed, only he has gone a little wild over this 
affair.” 

“Pray say no more, Mr. Chumbley,” pleaded Gray. 

“Why not?” said the other, quietly. “ I thought we were to be 
friends. Miss Stuart. Do you know I’m going to risk your displeasure 
by saying a word on my friend’s behalf ? ” 

Gray tried to speak — to recover her usiial calm self-possession, but 
her words would not come. 

“This is all nonsense, you knoAv,” continued Chumbley, “and I 
don’t know that I blame Hilton much. It's only natural, you know, 
and the poor fellow’s only like everyone else. They all get caught by 
the beauty just the same as I w^as. You’re not a man, you know, so 
you can’t understand it. Now, for instance, take me. I’m a great 
big fellow — a sort of a small giant in my way — strong as a horse. I 
could take that Rajah up by his neck and one leg, and pitch him out 
of window ; but when Helen Perowne came here, and gave me one 
of her looks, I was done, and she led me about just as she pleased. 
Ah ! there’s a very comic side to it all.” 

“ But you soon broke your silken string, Mr. Chumbley,” said Gray, 
trying to speak in his own bantering tone. 

“ Not really,” he said confidentially. “ Tho fact is, she broke it. I 
could not have got away if I had not seen that she was only playing with 
me. It was she who broke it by beginning to lead others on. I say. 
Miss Stuart, what awful old women your schoolmistresses must have 
been ! ” 

“ Awful old women ? ” exclaimed Gray. 

“ Yes, to bring up Miss Perowne as such — a man-killer.” 

“Oh ! Mr. Chumbley,” cried Gray, “ the Miss Twettenhams were 


AFTER TUE FEAST. 


Ill 


the s-vveotest, most amiable of ladies, and Helen Perowne made them 
really very anxious ” 

She cheeked herself suddenly, as if annoyed at having spoken against 
her friend, at whom she glanced now, to see that she seemed to he really 
the queen of the feast. 

^ “ Yes,” said Churabley, drily, “you’re right. They must have been 
nice old ladies; but about Hilton,” he continued. “You see it’s like 
this : a fellow gets caught before he knows where he is, and then he 
thinks he has arrived at the happiest time of his life ; then, a few days 
later, he sees some other fellow coming to the happiest point of his 
life ; and then, after a flush or two of fever, the first fellow begins to 
feel much better. I say. Miss Stuart, I was awfully in love with 
Helen Perowne.” 

“ Yes, I think you were,” she replied, with a sad little smile. 

“ Awfully,” he said again. “ It was all over with me. I fell in love 
in five minutes, and I thought her quite a goddess; while now ” 

“Yes?” said Gray, smiling; and her face looked very bright and 
ingenuous. “ While now ? ” 

“ Well now — I don’t,” he said, slowly. ** Master Hilton won’t by-and- 
by. I say. Miss Gray,” he whispered, laughing merrily, “ do you feel 
as if you were going to die ? ” 

“ To die ? ” she said, opening her eyes very widely in her surprise ; 
and as they met those of Chumbley he could not help thinking what 
sweet, earnest eyes they were. 

“Just like those of that girl tying the handkerchief round the 
fellow’s arm in Millais’ picture of llie Huguenot” he said to himself. 
“ Hah ! he’ll be a lucky fellow who wins her for his own ! ” 

“ Yes,” he said aloud, after a pause, during which he had looked 
so earnestly at her that she had cast down her eyes and blushed ; “ yes, 
of the poisoned cup. No ; out here in this land of romance, and living 
as we are amongst sultans, and princes, and slaves, just as if the 
Arabian nights had been brought into private life — I ought to say 
poisoned chalice or envenomed goblet, but I won’t ; I’ll say cup, with a 
dose in it. I say. Miss Stuart,” he drawled, “ it was too bad of you to 
be so suspicious.” 

“ Are you two lovers ? ” said a deep, rich voice, close by them ; and 
they both turned suddenly, to see that the Princess was watching them 
with a peculiar smile upon her lip. 

“ Why do you ask that ? ” said Chumbley, laughing. 

“ Because you look like it,” said the Princess. “I am glad: I like 
you both. You are a very wise man,” she added, tapping Chumbley 
on the shoulder with her fan. 

“ As you are wrong about the engagement, my dear Princess,” said 
Chumbiey, laughing, “ so it is natural that you should be wrong about 
my wisdom, for Miss Stuart and I are only the best of friends.” 

The Princess looked at him very sharply, and then turned her eyes 
upon Gray Stuart, who, though her colour was slightly heightened, 
felt araus^ at their host’s frank, bold questioning, and met tlie Prin- 
cess’s eyes with so ingenuous a look that the latter’s suspicions were 
half disarmed. 


112 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Well/ said the Inche Maida, smiling, “ what do you say ?” 

“ That Mr. Chumbley is my very good friend ; that is all.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” said the Princess, smiling. “I don’t see 
why you two should not be more than friends ; and sometimes I feel 
half glad, sometimes half sorry. AVhat strange people you English 
are!’^ 

She took Gray’s hand and held it, patting it affectionately as she 
spoke. 

“ Why are we so strange ? ” said Gray, smiling. 

“ Because it is your nature ; you seem so cold and hard to touch, 
w'hile a spark will set us on fire. I thought when I went to your head 
chief, Mr. Harley, and told him and his officers of my troubles — how 
I, a weak woman, was oppressed by cruel neighbours — that it would 
have been enough to make him send fighting men to drive my enemies 
away. But no ; it is talk, talk, talk. You are cold and distant, and 
you love your friends ! ” 

“But when we make friends we are very faithful and sincere,” said 
Gray, earnestly. 

“ Some of you, my child — some of you,” said the Princess, nodding 
her head, and looking intently at the fair, sweet face before her. 
“ Some of you can be very true and sincere as you call it ; some of you 
I would not trust. And you think,” she added, with a quick look of 
her dark eyes, “that you could not trust some of us. Well, perhaps 
you are right ; but we shall see — we shall see.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

LATER ON. 

Seeino how earnestly the Princess was talking to Gray Stuart, 
Chumbley looked around for another companion amongst the busy, 
chatting throng, and found him in the person of Dr. Bolter, who was 
coming that way. 

“ Well ? ” said the latter. 

“ Well ? ” replied Chumbley. 

“ It’s all right.” 

“ Right ? Oh, yes, I think so ; but I say, doctor, the next time you 
are lunching with a native, and you think the cups are poisoned, don’t 
show it quite .so plainly.” 

“ Did I show it, my dear boy ? ” 

“Horribly,” said Chumbley, coolly. “Here are you, a man who 
passes his time in giving other people numbers of poisonous doses, and 
yet you make so much fuss about taking one yourself ! ” 

“Tut — tut, man ! Tut — tut ! ” ejaculated the doctor. “ Hold your 
whisht, as old Stuart says. I couldn’t help the thought ; but it was 
a very unjust one I must say.” 

“ So purposeless,” said Chumbley. ** Why should the Princess want 
to poison us ? ” 


LATER ON. 


113 


Out of spite perhaps,” said the doctor. “I don’t think we have 
behaved very generously to her in reply to her appeal.” 

** On the head of the Colonial Secretary be it,” said Chumbley, re- 
lapsing into his slow drawl. 

“But unfortunately it docs not fall upon his head,” retorted the 
doctor, grimly. “ The Princess, disappointed in her appeal, could not 
reach the Colonial Secretary in London, but she could reach us.” 

“ And she won’t do anything of the kind, doctor,” said Chumbley, 
warmly. “She’s a very good sort of woman, in spite of her skin, and 
her party is a great success. It will be our turn to do something 
next.” 

“ What, in the shape of a feed ? ” 

“Yes, I think so ; only this hot climate seems to take all the energy 
out of a fellow.” 

For the Princess’s party was undoubtedly a grand success, the fairy- 
like aspect of the scene adding immensely to the effect. The conduct 
of the Sultan was simply pei’feet ; and his efforts to supplement 
the hostess in her endeavour to give pleasure won the encomiums 
of all. 

As evening approached there was a little nervousness displayed by 
the ladies at the idea of staiying late ; and one and all appealed to Mrs. 
Bolter, who immediately began metaphorically to play the part of hen, 
and displayed a desire to gather the whole of the ladies beneath her 
wings. 

“I promise you there is no occasion for fear,” said the Prin- 
cess, earnestly; “and besides, if you depart so soon, the prepara- 
tions my people have made to illuminate the jungle will be all in 
vain.” 

“What do you say, Mr. Harley? ’’said little Mrs. Bolter, rather 
petulantly, for she was growing tired. “ Dr. Bolter is not near for mo 
to appeal to him. Don’t you think we ought to go ? ” 

“ You will miss the moonlight ride down the river if you go so soon,” 
said the Princess, “and that will be far more beautiful than anything 
here.” 

“I think,” said the Resident, quietly, “that when our friend and 
ally ” 

“ Ally, Mr. Harley? ” said the Princess, in a low voice. 

“ Has taken so much pains for our gratification, we should be behaving 
coldly if we hurried away. Ladies, I think I may promise you a safe 
return.” 

'“ Safe return ? ” said the Princess. 

“ Yes,” said the Resident ; “ the river is deep, but perfectly clear of 
obstructions, and we have good rowers and good boats.” 

The Princess was on the whole so pressing, and seemed so likely to bo 
offended if her proposals were slighted, that after a little consultation 
it was finally determined to stay, and the time passed rapidly on. 

The Rajah had provided music and Malay dancers, while the Inche 
Maida’s women proved to be possessed of pleasant voices, singing in 
chorus in a mournful minor way. Then, as the evening closed in, and 
the ingeniously-arranged lamps kept starting into life amidst the lua- 


114 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Irous green of tlie forest trees, the scone became more and more fairy- 
like, and beautiful in the extreme. 

“ Talk about the Arabian nights,” said Chumbley, in the interval of 
a dance, during which he had Helen Perowne for partner, ‘ ‘ I think 
they would have had to be very fine nights indeed to come up to this. 
It is about the best thing I ever saw.” 

“Yes,” said Helen, dreamily, “it is very charming;” and she 
glanced carelessly round from beneath her long fringed lids, as if she 
were quite accustomed to displays made in her honour and they quite 
palled upon her# 

“Yes, it is charming,” said Chumbley, in an amused way. “ Get 
much of this sort of thing at school ? ” 

Helen’s eyes opened wide, and she darted an angry look at the 
speaker. 

“ How she would like to bring me to my knees,” thought Chumbley 
to himself. 

“ The insolent ! How dare he treat me as if I were a schoolgirl ? but 
I'll punish him yet.” 

The quadrille went on, and at the end Chumbley led his partner 
round the open space set apart for the dancers ; Helen languidly using 
her fan, and lowering her eyes or talking to the lieutenant whenever 
they passed the Eajah. 

“ I say, Miss Perowne,” said Chumbley, lightly, just as they were 
near the Princess, who was talking qiiietly to Gray Stuart and the 
Resident, “ how would you like to give up civilization, and live out 
here?” 

“ AVhat an absurd question, Mr. Chumbley ! ” she replied, haughtily, 
and with the knowledge that question and answer were heard by the 
group they passed. “Not at all; I detest the barbarity of the 
country, and the Malay customs ! ” 

“ Well, I don’t know,” said Chumbley ; “ I don’t see much barbarity. 
The people are simple in their habits, but decidedly refined.” 

“Absurd! ” said Helen, contemptuously. 

“ I think Miss Perowne promised me her hand for the next dance,” 
said the Eajah, approaching with a soft, cat-like step, smiling and 
bowing the while. 

Helen looked annoyed, but she was mistress of her emotions ; and 
quietly relinquishing Chumbley ’s arm, she laid her gloved hand upon 
the Rajah’s sleeve as coolly as if there had never been between them 
the slightest cause for uneasiness. 

•* She’s a clever one and no mistake,” said Chumbley to himself. “ I 
nope she won’t be stupid enough to begin flirting again. Matters seem 
to have settled down now, and it will be a pity for them to become 
troublesome once more. Wonder where the doctor is? I think I’ll 
lure him behind the trees, and we’ll have a cigar together. It’s too hot 
to dance.” 

He turned to go, after a final glance at Helen and the Rajah, but 
found himself face to face with the Inche Maida. 

“ Ah, giant ! ” she said, in excellent English, laying her hand upon 
his arm, and, as it were, taking him into custody. “ I heard what you 


LATER ON. 


115 


Kxid a littlo while ago to beautiful Helen Perowne, and I am going to 
ask you the same question.” 

“ I say,” thought Chumbley, “ this isn’t leap-year, is it ? ” 

“How would you like to give up civilization and live out here in the 
wilds?” 

Chumbley strolled on with the Princess in the soft light shed by the 
paper lanterns beneath the spreading palms, between whose mighty 
pinnate leaves an occasional glimpse of the lustrous starlit sky could be 
obtained. All around was very beautiful, and through the soft, scent- 
laden summer air came the strains of music sounding soft and subdued. 
There was a delicious languor in the breeze that seemed to prison the 
spirits in a gentle calm; and as Chumbley strolled softly on, he said, 
slowly : 

“ Well, I don’t know. Princess ; but just now I seem to fancy that it 
would be just the sort of life that would suit me.” 

“ And Captain Hilton ? ” said the Princess, smiling. 

“I don’t know about Hilton,” replied Chumbley. “I fancy he’s 
more ambitious than I am. For my part I should want an elephant, 
plenty of fishing, plenty of shooting ” 

“ Anything else ? ” said the Princess, who seemed amused at the 
young man’s cool, easy-going way. 

“ Well, it’s a regular paradise out here. Very beautiful.” 

“ Yes, my country is beautiful,” said the Princess. 

“Well, if I were to come out to such a place to play Adam, I should 
want an Eve. You don’t understand that.” 

“What savages you think us,” said the Princess, warmly. “I 
challenge you ! I know more of your religion and history than you do 
about mine.” 

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Chumbley, heartily ; and the Princess looked 
angry, but afterwards seemed to enjoy the young man’s genuine 
mirth. 

“ Ho you English think it good manners to laugh at a Malay lady ? ” 
she said, reproachfully. 

“ Laugh ? At you ? ” he said, frankly. “ My dear Princess, I was 
laughing at myself. Why, I’m one of the most ignorant fellows under 
the sun. I know my drill, and how to handle a gun ; that’s about all.” 

“ You depreciate yourself,” said the Princess, in an admonitory tone ; 
“ but I do know who were Adam and Eve. You mean that if you lived 
out here you would want a wife.” 

Chumbley nodded. 

“ Marry Helen Perowne and settle down out here. I would build 
you a house.” 

“ Heaven forbid ! ” said Chumbley, laughing. “ No, Princess, I am 
not one of her slaves. I look at her now as I should at a beautiful 
picture.” 

“You look at a beautiful picture?” replied the Princess, wonder- 
ingly. “ Oh, yes, I understand now. What? so soon! Well, well, I 
daresay you are right, Mr. Harley,” she said, in reply to a remark made 
by the Resident. 

“Yes, he’s quite right, madam,” said Hr. Belter, who also bustled 


116 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


up. “Dew’s falling fast. We must 4ot have any of my folks down 
with fever after so pleasant a trip.” 

“I always take your advice, doctor,” said the Princess, smiling; 
“ and say it is good,” 

“It is a long way back,” said the Eesident, smiling. 

“ Yes, but you have the stream with you,” said the Princess. 
“ Where is the Sultan? There : you shall go. I will not keep you 
longer than is right, for I want you to come again.” 

“ After so pleasant a welcome, I’m sure all will bo too happy,” said 
the Eesidenb. 

“ I shall only be too glad to entertain you,” replied the Princess, “ if 
I am in a position to do so. Who knows ? You English refuse to help 
me ; and perhaps by another month I may bo poor, and little better 
than a slave.” 

“ But with plenty of friends in Sindang,” said the little doctor, 
warmly. “ Here is one.” 

“ I know it doctor,” she replied, taking his outstretched hand. 

“ Gray, my child,” whispered Mrs. Doctor, who was some distance 
away, “I’m sure that is a very dreadful woman I It does not take so 
long as that to shake hands ! ” 

“ 1 think it is only the Princess's manner,” replied Gray, smiling. 

“And very bad manners too,” said the little lady. “ Now, where is 
Arthur ? ” 

“ That is he,” said Gray, “ following Helen with her cloak.” 

“Now, there ! ” cried the little lady, angrily, “now is my brother 
Arthur the man to be carrying Helen Perowne’s cloak ? Oh, dear me ! 
I do wish we were safe back at home ! I don’t like these pic-nics in 
savage lands at all ! ” 

“ Good-bye, if I don’t have a chance to speak to you again, Mr. 
Chumbley’,” said the Princess. “ Is not your friend coming to say 
good-bye ? Ah, I see ! he is in attendance with your Mr. Chaplain 
upon the beauty.” 

“I’d go and say good night to Madam Inche Maida, Hilton,” 
whispered Chumbley, the next minute to his friend, and the latter went 
up and shook hands, thanking the Princess for the pleasant evening they 
had had, and hoping soon to see her again. 

“I thank you,” said the Princess, coldly. “ I hope you have enjoyed 
yourself ; but you are keeping Mr. Perowne’s little girl waiting. Good- 
night.” 

That was imagination on the Princess’s part, for Helen was talking 
to the chaplain, and had her back to them. 

“ She's a curious woman,” said Hilton ; “ and I don’t like her a 
bit ! ” 

And then, taking advantage of his dismissal, he bowed, and went to 
where Gray Stuart was talking to Mrs. Bolter, as a half-way house 
to Helen, at whose side he was soon after. 

Half an hour later the whole party were safely embarked. The boats 
were hung with lanterns, the full moon was above the black jungle- 
trees, and the river looked like molten silver as the oars dipped in 
regular cadence to the rowers’ song. Then on and on floated the two 


THE RETURN PARTY. 


117 


great nagas ; the^ whole scene, as they glided between the two black 
banks of trees, being so weirdly beautiful, so novel, and so strange, that 
it affected all present, though in different ways. 

Helen was hot and peevish ; Mrs. Bolter wjis petulant and fretting 
about the doctor stopping so long away ; while Gray Stuart felt as if 
at the smallest provocation she would burst into tears. 

***** ^^ 

“ I say, Chum, old fellow,” said Hilton, as they stood outside their 
quarters in the brilliant moonlight smoking a cigar before turning in 
for the night, and after a chat about their pleasant passage down to the 
landing-stage — “ I say. Chum, old fellow.” 

“HuUo!” 

‘‘ She doesn’t seem to like me, but not a bad sort of woman that 
Princess.” 

“ Not at all. Pity she’s so brown.” 

“Yes, rather; but I say Chum.” 

“Hullo!” 

“I’ll bet a dollar she squeezed your hand when you were coming 
away, eh ? ” 

“ Never tell tales out of school,” said Chumbley, slowly. “ Squeezes 
of hands leave no impression, so they don’t count. I didn’t ask you 
if you squeezed Helen Perowne’s hand.” 

“ I shouldn’t mind if you did, old lad. Perhaps so ; but don’t 
bother, and pass me a match.” 

Chumbley chuckled softly to himself ; and after a time they finished 
their cigars and turned in, the lieutenant sleeping soundly, while 
the rest of the principal personages in this narrative were wakeful and 
tossing from side to side, perhaps the most restless being the successful 
beauty, Helen Perowne. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE RETURN PARTY. 

Mr. Pbrowne’s was acknowledged to bo by far the best garden at 
the station ; its favourable position — sloping, as it did, down to the 
river — prevented any approach to aridity, and as he had gone to the 
expense of getting three Chinese gardeners — men who were ready 
enough, if not to originate, to take uj) any suggested idea — the result 
was a charmingly-picturesque succession of smooth lawns and shady 
walks, sheltered by the choicest flowering trees the country produced. 

He spared no expense to make the garden attractive, and on the night 
of Helen’s twenty-first birthday, when they gave a garden-party, 
the place, with its Chinese lanterns and illuminated summer-houses, 
had an effect that seemed to Gray Stuart the most lovely she had 
ever seen. 

“ I quite envy you sometimes,” she said, as Helen, in her calm assur- 
ance, kissed her and welcomed her in a patronizing way ; “ surrounded 
as you are with luxuries, you ought to be very happy.” 


118 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ And yet I am not,” said Helen, bitterly, and she turned to meet 
some fresh arrivals. 

“You’ve a deal to grumble about,” said old Stuart, -who had heard 
his daughter’s words. “ What’s all this but show and tinsel ? What’s 
it worth ? Bah I ” 

Her father’s words did not comfort her, for she felt very sore ; and as 
she strolled with him down one of the paths she thought to herself 
that there was an old fable about a dog in a manger, and in her quiet, 
homely fashion, it seemed to her that Helen was playing that part. 

For she had, in her unselfish sorrow, seen that for some little time 
past Hilton was not happy in his love. Helen was playing with 
him, and ho seemed to feel it bitterly, though he was too proud to show 
it ; and she thought to herself, what would she not give to be able 
to whisper comfort to the young officer, and pour out for him the riches 
of her love — an impossibility, for in her way she was as proud as 
Helen herself. 

“ Ah, Mr. Stuart ! How do. Miss Stuart ? ” drawled a voice just 
behind them. “ Glad to see you both. I say, Miss Stuart, do you 
want a fellow to play cavalier? I’m quite at liberty. Mr. Stuart, 
there’s plenty of claret-cup, champagne, and cigars in the little pagoda, 
and it’s nice and cool.” 

“ It’s like an oven out here,” growled the merchant. “ I say. Gray, 
you don’t want me, do you ? Chumbley will take care of you. Come 
to me when you want to go.” 

For answer she placed her hand on the lieutenant’s arm, and he took 
her round the grounds, 

“ Looks nice, doesn’t it ? ” he said. “ Seen all the grandees ? ” 

“ I have only seen Helen and Mr. Perowne,” she replied. 

“Looks well to-night, ’pon my word. I saw Murad’s eyes light up 
like a fire-fly as he shook hands with her, but he pulled himself to 
directly. Perowne does these things well. Old boy must be pretty 
rich.” 


“ They say he is, very,” replied Gray. “ Here is the Eajah coming 
up, Mr. Chumbley, I always feel afrai 1 of that man.” 

“ Hold tight by my arm, then, and I’ll punch his head if ho looks 
at you. He shan’t run away with you while I am by.” 

Gray laughed merrily, and in the midst of her mirth the Rajah 
came up. 

“You English people always seem so bright and merry,” he said, 
smiling, and looking very handsome as he stood by the side of a 
lantern. “ We people always feel dull and sad.” 

“ Have a glass of champagne. Rajah. It is a fine cure for sadness. 
I say,” continued Chumbley, “ you’ll have to imiUite this, and give an 
evening/e<:e.” 

“Yes,” he said, eagerly; “I was thinking so. But I would havo 
more lanterns in the trees, and more flowers.” 

“ To be sure,” said Chumbley, “ You’ll invite me ? ” 

“Will you promise me to come,” said the Rajah, holding out his 
hand. 

“ I will indeed,” replied Chumbley, grasping it in return. 


THE EETURN PARTY. 


11 U 

“ And you too, Miss Stuart ? ” 

‘•You must ask papa,” she said, quietly. 

“ I will,” said the Rajah, earnestly. “ Where is he ? ” 

“Having a cigar in the little pagoda. Rajah,” replied Chumhley; 
and the Malay Prince nodded and smiled, and went away. 

“Here, I say,” said Chumhley, as soon as they were alone. “I’m 
going to have a quarrel. Miss Stuart. I thought there would have 
been a chance for me, and that my rejected addresses would be ac- 
cepted, and now you behave like this.” 

“ What do you mean, Mr. Chumhley ? If it is an enigma, I cannot 
guess it ; if it is a joke, you miist explain it ; for I am only a Scottish 
maiden.” 

“ Joke ? — no,” he said ; “ I call it no joke. Here you and the Rajah 
have the effrontery to make up matters before me.” 

“ I and the Rajah ! ” cried Gray. 

“Yes ; you told him to go and ask papa. I heard you.” 

“Oh, Mr. Chumhley, what a poor joke,” she cried; and then she 
stopped short, for the handsome face and stately form of the Inche 
Maida, followed by one attendant, suddenly came upon them from out 
of a dark side-w'alk. 

“ Then I was right,” she said, holding up her finger at both in turn. 
“ You two are lovers.” 

“And we always talk about other people,” said Chumhley, as the 
Princess kissed Gray rather coldly upon the forehead. “ Come along 
with us, and you shall hear.” 

His frank, easy manner seemed to chase away the Inche Maida’s 
coldness, and laying her gloved hand upon the young man’s arm, she 
pressed it rather more warmly than English etiquette requires, as 
together they promenaded the grounds, coming twice over upon 
Hilton, who seemed dull and out of sorts; while Helen was full of 
vivacity, her eyes sparkling, her words full of bright repartee; and 
even the Resident, with his rather sardonic humour, seemed to look at 
her more kindly than usual. 

This look seemed to spoil her, for she immediately after be^n to 
flirt merrily, first with one and then with another, sending poisoned 
stabs through Hilton’s breast, and making him gnaw his lip as he 
darted reproachful glances at her from time to time. 

Gray saw a good deal of this as the party gradually drew together 
to where an al fresco supper was spread upon the lawn, and her suffer- 
ings were as acute as those of Hilton. 

“ She does not care for him in the least,” she said to herself, as she 
noted Helen’s conduct with a young officer present. 

“ Miss Stuart, may I take you to a seat ? They are going to have 
supper now.” 

Gray started and turned pale. Why had Captain Hilton asked her ? 
she thought. Then her heart answered, — Recause Helen was trifling 
with him. 

“I am engaged to Mr. Chumhley, I think,” she said, coldly, tor- 
turing herself by her words ; for she felt as if she would have given 
worlds to have been seated at his side. 


120 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Perhaps the Princess will allow me to be her escort ? ” said Hilton, 
stiffly. 

“Yes, I will,” said the Princess, quickly, and she went with him 
towards the supper-table. 

“Well,” said Chumbley, “suppose we go and find places. Miss 
Stuart ; only if I bore you don’t be above telling me.” 

She turned her soft, gray eyes upon him laughingly. 

“I am very much obliged to you,” she said with a smile ; “but I 
fear you will find me very dull company.” 

“ Well, as I’m dull too, it will be all right.” 

The supper was all that could be desired, and very beautiful every- 
thing seemed beneath the bright suspended lamps. Flowers, fruit, all 
that money could provide, were there ; and the mingling of English 
and Eastern customs added to the charm of the banquet beneath the 
great mellow stars. 

The wine sparkled, merry voices chatted ; and the doctor’s speech 
proposing their young hostess’s good health, and many happy returns 
of the day, was so great a triumph, that Mrs. Bolter, who had been 
looking very cross, and trying in vain to get her husband to her side, 
began to seem a little better satisfied, especially as, a few minutes 
after, he came behind her chair and whispered : 

“ I hope I did not say anything to displease you, my dear.’* 

Then, as the little band, composed of half a dozen soldiers of the 
force, began a waltz, the company strolled once more in couples about 
the grounds ; but only to return before long to the front of the house 
and form one huge group composed of smaller groups, with the con- 
versation in full swing. 


CHAPTEK XXXI. 

STRANGE BEHAVIOUR. 

In a tropical climate, where the days are too often one long punishment 
of heat and weariness, people believe in the dim early mornings and 
in the comparative coolness of the dark star-spangled nights. The 
day seems there a time for shelter, rest, and often for siestas of a pro- 
tracted kind. Hence it follows that an evening-party is often drawn 
out long into the night, and guests who are comfortably seated upon a 
cool, dimly-lit lawn feel in no hurry to leave the open air for the 
mosquito-haunted heat of a sleeping-chamber. 

But all pleasant things come to an end, and guests began to leave Mr. 
Perowne’s. The absence of the two young officers passed unnoticed, and 
several friends took their departure after a glance round, not seeing 
Helen, and concluding that she was engaged. 

Mrs. Doctor Bolter had been, to use her own expression, “ on pins 
and needles ” for quite two hours, trying to get the doctor home ; but 
to every fresh appeal he had something to say by way of excuse. This 
one had to be seen— that one had said he wished to have a few words 
with him — it was impossible to go at present. 


STRANGE BEHAVIOUR. 


121 


“Helen Pero-wne •will think it rude of you, my dear,” he said, re- 
proachfully. “ Go and have a chat with her again.” 

^ Mrs. Bolter tightened her lips, and made up her mind, as she siib- 
sided, to talk to the doctor the next day ; hut at last she was driven 
to^ extremity, and captured her husband after a long hunt — in every 
minute of which she had made more and more sure that he was flirting 
with some lady in one or other of the shady walks. She found him 
at last under a tree, seated upon one bamboo chair with his legs on 
another, in company with Gray Stuart’s father, who was in a precisely 
similar attitude. A bamboo table was between them, upon which was 
a homely-looking bottle and a great glass jug of cold water to help 
them in the mixings that took place occasionally as they sat and 
smoked. 

“ Oh, here you are. Dr. Bolter,” said the lady, with some asperity. 

Yes, my dear, here I am,” he replied ; “ arn’t you nearly ready to 
go?” 

Mrs. Doctor Bolter gasped, for the effrontery of this remark was 
staggering after she had been spending the last two hours in trying to 
get him away. 

“ Ready to go ! ” she exclaimed, angrily. “ I think it is disgracefully 
late ; and I can’t think how Mr. Stuart can sit there so patiently, know- 
ing all the while as he does, that his child ought to be taken home.” 

Mr. Stuart chuckled. 

“Bolter, old fellow,” he said, “you’d better go. That’s just how 
my wife used to talk to me.” 

“Mr. Stuart, I’m surprised at you,” said Mrs. Doctor, in her most 
impressive manner. 

“Yes, it was very rude,” he said, drily. “Perhaps you wouldn’t 
mind taking Gray home ^with you ? I don’t think I shall come just 
yet.” 

“ Certainly, I will take the dear child home,” replied Mrs. Bolter. 
“ I don’t think it is proper for her to be here so late.” 

“ Humph 1 Who’s she with ? ” said the old merchant. 

The Princess,” was the reply. 

“ Oh, she’s all right then. Good night. Bolter, if you must go. 
Won’t you have just one wee drappie mair ? ” 

The doctor shook his head with Spartan fortitude, and buttoned 
up his coat, but only to unbutton it directly. 

“ Good night, Stuart ; we’ll take your little lass home.” 

“ Thankye ; do,” was the reply, and the dry old Scot sat back in his 
chair chuckling, as he saw the doctor marched off. 

“Seen Helen about, Stuart?” said Mr. Perowne, coming up five 
minutes later. 

“ No ; not for an hour.” 

If you see her, tell her I’m up by the drawing-room window. 
People keep going, and she’s not here.” 

“All right.” 

“ By the way, when can I see you to-morrow ? ” said Mr. Perown© 
eagerly. “ I want to chat over that matter with you.” 

** I shall be in pay office all day if you like to call.” 


122 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Yes ; to be sure — of course. ’ I’ll call in,” said the merchant 
hastily, as if the business was unpleasant to him ; and he went away 
muttering. 

Hah I ” grunted the old merchant, “pride must have a fall, they 
say ; and when pride does fall, it always bumps itself pretty hard 
upon the stones.” 

The remarks made by Mrs. Bolter to her husband, as they left the 
old Scotch merchant, were of rather a forcible nature; but there 
was this excuse for her: that she was very hot and extremely tired 
after the long evening in the enervating climate ; and this had no doubt 
acidified her temper. But no matter W'hat she said, the amiable little 
doctor took it all in good part. 

He was a natiiralist and student of the human frame, and it was 
quite natural, he told himself, that his wife should bo cross now 
that she was weary. 

“ Babies are always fretful when they are tired,” he said to himself ; 
*' and a woman is only a gi’own-up baby. Poor little soul ! she will be 
all right in the morning.” 

“Why are we going in this direction, Dr. Bolter? "said the little 
lady. “ This is not the nearest way to the gate.” 

“Must go and say good night to Perowne and Madam Helen,” 
he replied. 

“ They would not miss us,” said Mrs. Doctor, tartly. “ I daresay we 
should only be interrupting some pleasant flirtation.” 

“ Oh — oh — oh ! I say,” said the doctor, jocularly. “ For shame, 
my dear, for shame I I’ll tell Perowne what you say about his flirta- 
tions.” 

“Don’t be foolish. Bolter,” said his wife, sharply. “You know 
what I mean.” 

“What, about Perowne flirting with the ladies?” he said, with 
a smothered chuckle. 

“About Helen Perowne,” she said, shortly. “Well, here we are 
upon the lawn, and of course there’s no host here and no hostess.” 

“But there’s little Gray,” said the doctor. “By jingo. I’d about 
forgotten her.” 

“No wonder, sir, when j-ou have been drinking with her father 
to such an extent.” 

“ Fine thing in this climate, my dear,” said the doctor. “ Where’s 
Arthur ? ” 

“ Tired of all this frivolity, I suppose, and gone home like a sensible 
man. He does not drink whiskey.” 

“Oh, dear,” said the doctor, “I’ll never take another drop if you 
talk to me like this, but poison myself with liquor-ammonite instead. ” 

“ Liquor what, sir ? ” 

“ Ammonise, my dear, sal-volatile as you call it when you require 
a stimulus. Well, Gray, my child, we are to take you home.” 

“ So soon. Dr. Bolter ? ” said the Inche Maida, by whose side Gray 
was seated. 

“ I think it quite late enough, Princess,” said Mrs. Bolter, austerely. 
“ Have you seen my brother ? ” 


STEANGE BEHAVIOUR. 


123 


‘‘Yes, I saw him following Miss Perowne down the walk,” said the 
Princess, quietly enjoying Mrs. Bolter’s start. “I suppose it is 
pleasanter and cooler in the dark parts of the garden.” 

“My brother is fond of meditation,” said Mrs. Bolter, quietly; and 
she looked very fixedly in the Princess’s eyes. 

“ Yes, I suppose so ; and the night is so pleasant a time for thought,” 
retorted the Princess. “ You must come with your brother and 
the doctor, and stay with me, Mrs. Bolter.” 

“Thank you, madam,” replied the little lady. “Never if I know 
it,” she said to herself. 

“ I suppose it is late to English views ? ” said the Princess, smiling. 
“ Good-bye, then, dear Miss Stuart. I will try and persuade papa 
to bring you to stay with me in my savage home. You really 
would come if he consented ? ” 

“ Indeed I should like it,” said Gray, quickly, as she looked frankly 
in the Princess’s handsome face, the latter kissing her affectionately at 
parting. 

“ Now we must say good night to Perowne and our hoste.ss,” said the 
doctor, merrily. “ Come along, my dear, and we’ll soon be home. But 
I say, where are these people ? ” 

Neither Helen nor Mr. Perowne was visible ; and the replies they 
received to inquiries were of the most contradictory character. 

“ There, do let us go. Dr. Bolter,” exclaimed the lady, with great 
asperity now. “No one will miss us; but if the Perownes do, we can 
apologize to-morrow or next day, when we see them.” 

“But I should have liked to say good night,” said the doctor. 
“ Let’s have one more look. I daresay Helen is down here.” 

“ I daresay Captain Hilton knows where she is,” said Mrs, Doctor, 
sharply, and Gray gave quite a start. 

“ But I can’t find Hilton, and I haven’t seen Chumbley lately.” 

“Perhaps they have been sensible enough to go home to bed,” said 
Mrs. Doctor, after she had been dragged up and down several walks. 

“ Almost seems as if everybody had gone home to bed,” said the 
doctor, rubbing his ear in a vexed manner. “ Surely Perowne and 
Helen would not have gone to bed before the guests had left.” 

“ Well, I’m going to take Gray Stuart home, doctor,” said the lady, 
decisively. “You can do as you like, but if the hostess cannot con- 
descend to give up her own pleasure for her guests’, I don’t see why we 
should study her.” 

“Ah, here’s Perowne,” cried the doctor. “ Good-night, old fellow. 
Thank you for a pleasant evening. We are just off. Where is Madam 
Helen ? ” 

“ Don’t know; but don’t wait for her,” said Mr. Perowne ; and after 
friendly leave-taking the party of three moved towards the gates, Mrs. 
Doctor heaving a satisfied sigh as they went along. 

They had to cross the lawn again, where a goodly group of ^lestsyet 
remained ; and as they passed the Inche Maida smiled and kissed her 
hand to Gray, while the Rajah rose to see them to the gates. 

“ Not gone yet. Rajah ? ” said the doctor. “ I say, how are you 
going to get home ? ” 


124 


OlsE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“My boat is -waiting. We like the night for a journey, and 
rowers will soon take me back.” 

“ And the Inche Maida, will she go back home to-night ? ” 

“ No ; I think she is to stay here. Shall I go and ask her ? ” 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” exclaimed Mrs, Doctor, “ he does not want to know. 
Good-night, Rajah.” 

“ Good-night — good-night.” 

They parted at the gate, and the Rajah returned to the la-wn, staying 
with the remaining guests till they departed ; he and the Inche Maida 
being about the last to leave — the latter being handed by Mr. Perowne 
into her boat, for the Rajah was wrong — the Princess had not been in- 
vited to stay, and her strong crew of boatmen were very soon sending 
the long light naga swiftly up stream, the smoothly-flowing water 
breaking up into myriads of liquid stars, as it seemed to rush glittering 
along on either side while they progressed between the two black walls 
of foliage that ran up from the surface high in air, one mass of leafage, 
from which the lowermost branches kissed the stream. 


CHAPTER XXXn. 

MISSING, 

Tub hum of a mosquito was about the only sound to be heard in the 
Residency house, as, clad in silken pyamas, Mr. Harley lay sleeping 
easily upon his light bamboo bedstead, dimly seen through the thin 
gauzy curtains by the light of a well-subdued lamp. 

The bedroom was furnished in the lightest and coolest way, with 
matting floor and sides, while jalousie shutters admitted the cool night 
air. 

The Resident had been smoking, partly in obedience to a bad bache- 
lor habit, partly to keep at bay that Macbeth of insects that haunts 
all -eastern rooms, and tries so diligently to murder the sleep of the 
inoffensive and just. 

The faint pungent odour of a good cigar still pervaded the room, and 
the extinct end was yet between Neil Harley’s white teeth, as'he lay 
there dreaming about Helen Perowne, seeing her admired and followed 
by all the single men at the station, while he was the only one who 
made no sign. 

He sighed in his sleep, and then uttered a low moan, as if in spite of 
his placid face and show of indifference he suffered deeply on Helen’s 
account; but a calm smile, well resembling indifference, rested upon 
his features, and seemed to say that, come w^hat might, he -was patiently 
waiting his time. 

Then came a change, for the calmness seemed to be swept away by 
a gust of passion, and the strong man’s hands clenched, his brow grew 
rugged, and, as if suffering from some acute agony, the white teeth of 
the sleeper closed tightly with a sharp click, and a portion of the bitten- 
through cigar rolled from his lips on to the floor. 


Missma. 


125 


Then all was very still. The heat seemed to grow more intense, and 
the faint ripple of the river, as it glided by the island, could be dis- 
tinctly heard. Now and then from the distant jungle some wild, uneasy 
cry rose upon the still air, riding as it were across the river like a 
warning to tell the slumbering Europeans that the savagery of the 
primeval forest lay close beside their civilization; while the wakeful 
might have pondered on the fact that their safety rested solely upon 
the British •prestige, and that a spark might ignite a train that would 
result in a terrible conflagration sufficient to sweep them all away. 

^ Some such thoughts crossed the sleeping brain of Neil Harley that 
night, and his sleep grew more and more troubled as he thought how 
love-blinded he had been, and the risks they had run from Helen’s 
treatment of the young Rajah. 

The trouble had passed away now, but such another affair might 
result in ruin to them all ; and yet he had allowed her to go on and 
trifle, looking on with assumed indifference, though his heart was stung 
the while. 

Neil Harley’s sleep again grew restful and calm ; for in a pleasant 
dream he fancied that Helen, more beautiful than ever, had bidden him 
to her side, telling him that all her weak and wilful coquetry was but to 
try him. That she had loved him from the first, for he was the only 
man who had really touched her heart ; and that, though she had 
fought against the restraint he had placed upon her, and told herself 
that she hated him and the way in which he had mocked at her trifling, 
she was his — his alone — that she resigned herself to his keeping — his 
keeping — that of the only man who could ever sway her heart. 

The night grew hotter still, and the faint breath that was wafted 
between the open laths that covered the window seemed to have passed 
from the mouth of some furnace. A harsh roar came from the jungle, 
and then a loud plash or two echoed over the surface of the stream, as 
some great reptile plunged in from the muddy bank. 

Then all was very still once more for a time, till suddenly the faint 
plash-plash of oars was heard, seeming now to be coming nearer, now to 
be fading away, drowned by the shrill insect hum. Again it sounded 
nearer, and all doubt of its proceeding from a boat bound for the Resi- 
dency island was ended by the loud challenge of the sentry at the 
landing-place. 

Then came voices in reply, and once more the hum of the mosquitoes 
was all that could be heard : now low and deep, now shrill and angry. 

The faint lapping of the river and the plash of oars had died away, 
and the silence and heat were painful enough to draw a low sigh from 
the sleeper, just as the bedroom door was softly opened, and a dark 
figure glided in, crept over the matting floor without making a sound, 
and bent over the bed. 

Por a moment it seemed as though he was there upon some errand of 
ill ; and one who watched would have been ready to raise an alarm, 
the insecurity of the station life being sufficient to warrant such a 
supposition; but the idea of the dark figure being bent on an evil 
errand was at once destroyed, for after waiting for a moment, he 
cried, softly ; 


126 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


** Mjistcr — master ! ** 

TheEesident started up with the sudden awakening of a man accus- 
tomed to suspect peril at every turn, and his hand darted beneath his 
pillow even as he raised himself, to be withdrawn grasping the butt 
of a loaded revolver. 

“Ah, you Ling,” he said, with a sigh of relief, as he lowered his 
hand. “ What is it ? Someone ill ? ” 

“ Mr. Perowne has come across in his boat, sir.” 

“Mr. Perowne ? at this time ! what does ho want ? ” 

“To see you, sir.” 

“ Tell him I’ll be there directly.” 

The Chinese servant glided away as silently as he had come, and the 
Resident hastily dashed some water in his face to clear away the sleepy 
feeling. 

“ 1 hope nothing serious ! ” he muttered. “Has Helen been taken 
ill ? ” 

A pang shot through him at the thought, and the reckless behaviour 
cf the night, that had stung him again and again during the course of 
the evening, was forgiven. 

“ Poor child ! ” he muttered, “ I believe she loves me, and bird-like, 
is fluttering and timorously striving to escape from the string that 
holds her.” 

He glanced at his watch as it hung upon a stand. 

“ Two o’clock. I have not been in bed above an hour. What can be 
wrong ? ” 

The next minute he was in the dining-room, where he found Mr. 
Perowne agitatedly walking up and down ; but as soon as the Resident 
entered he advanced and caught him fiercely by the arm. 

“ Harley, do you know anything of this ? ” he cried, 

“ Of this ? Of what ? ” 

“ Helen ! Where is she ? ” 

“ Helen ? In bed and asleep I hope. What do you mean ? ” 

“ I missed her somewhere about eleven. I have not seen htr since.” 

The Resident looked curiously at Mr. Perowne, whose flushed face and 
excited manner seemed to suggest that he had been playing the host too 
freely during the evening, and to his own deterioration in balance. 

“ Tired, and gone to bed. A bit peevish with weariness,” suggested 
the Resident, who drove back a curious sense of uneasiness that troubled 
him. 

“ No,” said Mr. Perowne, hoarsely; ‘‘she has not gone to bed, and 
the house and the gardens have been searched again and again. Do 
you know anything of this ? ” 

*•' I ? Absurd ! I left in good time. I bade her good night when she 
was talking to the chaplain ; he was trying to persuade her to let him 
cover her shoulders with the shawd he carried,” 

The Resident ceased speaking to dwell for a moment upon the lumi- 
nous look he had seen Helen bestow upon the chaplain — a look meant, 
he told himself, to annoy him, while he knew that it would give poor 
Rosebury food for sweet reflection during weeks to come. 

“ It is very strange,” said Mr. Perowne, excitedly ; and his haggard 


MISSING. 


127 


gnze was directed about the place, as if he half expected to find that 
Helen was there. “ Where did you see her last, do yoii say ? ” 

"Talking to Eosehury, and before then she was with Hilton. I fancy 
they were having words. Well, perhaps I ought hardly to say that ; 
but Hilton was certainly remonstrating angrily.” 

" When was that ? ” 

" Half-past ten or eleven ; I cannot say for certain.” 

" Let us go and see Hilton,” said Mr. Perowne ; " but stay. Am I to 
believe you, Harley ? ” 

"As you please, Mr. Perowne,” said the Resident, with dignity. 
" Why should you doubt my word ? ” 

" 1 do not doubt it ! ” cried Mr, Perowne, catching his hand. " Pity 
me, Harley. I seem cold and strange ; but I love that girl, and she is 
gone.” 

He gasped painfully as he spoke, but smiled sadly directly after as 
the Eesident warmly grasped his hand. 

" One minute,” said the Eesident ; and hastily adding something to 
his clothing, he joined his visitor again, and the two sallied forth into the 
still, hot night, to make their way to the little fort, which was strong- 
hold and barracks in one. 

Here they were challenged by another sentry, for, peaceful times as 
they were, the military arrangements were always kept upon the 
sternest war footing. 

" We want to see Captain Hilton,” said Mr. Harley, in his quick, 
commanding w'ay. 

" Captain’s ashore, sir. He went to Mr. Perowne’s party.” 

** Yes, yes,” said that gentleman ; " we know : but he has come back 
No, sir ; not while I’ve been on guard — three hours, sir.” 

** Call the sergeant,” said Mr. Harley, sharply. 

He needed no calling, for, hearing voices, he had come out to see who 
came so late. 

" Where is Captain Hilton ? ” 

" I thought he was stopping to sleep at Mr. Perowne’s, sir,” said the 
sergeant, saluting. " Hasn’t been back. Beg pardon, sir ; didn’t see it 
was Mr. Perowne.” 

" But he left my house hours ago,” said that gentleman. 

"Gone to stay at Dr, Bolter’s perhaps, sir,” suggested the 
sergeant. * 

" Are you sure he did not return while your back was turned ? ” said 
Mr. Harley. 

"Quite sure, sir. Still, he might, sir; it’s no use to be too sure. 
Like to go to his quarters, sir ? ” ^ 

" Yes, -we’ll go in,” said the Eesident, quickly ; and following the 
sergeant, after exchanging glances, the two gentlemen entered Hilton’s 
room. 

The bed had not been pressed, and everything was in order, just as 
the regimental servant had placed it after his master had dressed to 
attend the evening feie. 

" Mr. Chumbley hasn’t come back neither,” said the sergeant. 

" Not come back 1 ” said the Eesident, wondering. " This is strange, 
. 9 


128 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


I don’t know, though. They have gone to smoke a cigar with someone, 
and then decided to stay all night.” 

Mr. Perowne shook his head, and the Resident felt that his explana- 
tion -was not good, and both were silent as they walked back towards 
the entrance of the fort. 

“ What does this mean ? ” said Mr. Perowne, at last. 

Can’t say yet,” replied the Resident, sharply. “ Sergeant, have a 
look round, and make sure that Captain Hilton and Mr. Chumbley have 
not come back.” 

“Yes, sir, I’ll look round,” said the sergeant; “but they couldn’t 
have landed without the sentries knowing.” 

“ Go and see,” said the Resident, sternly ; and the sergeant saluted, 
and walked away. 

“ They must be staying somewhere,” said the Resident, who suffered 
from the desire to keep back the question that so agitated his breast. 
“ Depend upon it, they have gone to the doctor’s to smoke a cigar.” 

He felt as he spoke that this was impossible ; for he was sure that 
the hours kept at the doctor’s were too regular for such a relapse. 

“ And my daughter ? ” said Mr. Perowne, in a cold, stern voice. 

“ I’ll have the men out to search if it is necessary,” said the Resident 
eagerly; “ bxit before we proceed to such an extreme measure, had we 
not better make more inquiries ? Yours is a large house and grounds. 
She may be back by now.” 

Neil Harley felt a strange choking sensation as he spoke, and he 
knew that his words were weak ; but he clung to the hope that there 
was some mistake, and that Helen was by now safely at home. 

“ She may,” said Mr. Perowne, bitterly. “ But it seems to me that 
there is some trick here. I gave you the credit of it at first.” 

“ Am I a man so wanting in respect for Helen that I should insult 
her and you ? ” 

“ I — I can’t help it, Harley ! ” groaned the father. “ There seems to 
be no end to my troubles ! ” 

The Resident looked at him sharply, for that evening he had seemed 
all life and gaiety. 

“ Yes, you may look I ” groaned the unhappy man ; “ but everything 
goes wrong with me. There is, I am sure, some planned affair here; 
and I believe that Hilton is at the bottom of it.” 

“ Do not be so ready to condemS, Perowne,” said the Resident, quickly. 
“ I feel sure that Hilton would be guilty of no rash, foolish escapade 
like this. It is absurd ! Good Heavens, man ! do you think that Helen 
would degrade herself by eloping ? I will not believe it ! ” 

“ I wish I could feel you were right,” groaned the unhappy father. 

“ Why, Chumbley is away too. It is like saying that he is im- 
plicated.” 

“ He is Hilton’s chosen companion,” said Mr. Perowne, sadly. 

“ Tut, man ; we shall have to look farther afield than that.” 

“ Then why are they not here to speak for themselves ? ” cried Mr. 
Perowne, in a querulous, excited way. “Hilton has been constantly 
hanging about my place a great deal more then Helen liked, and she 
showed it to-night by completely turning her back upon him.” 


MISSING. 


129 


“But surely you do not think that Hilton began the Eesident. 

** I do not think anything,” said Mr. Perowne, angrily. “ But hero 
is the fact before us : my daugliter is missing, and Captain Hilton has 
not returned to his quarters.” 

“ Neither has Chumbley,” said the Resident, uneasily. 

“ Neither has Chumbley,” assented Mr. Perowne. 

“ A man who, beneath his languid indifference, is the soul of honour,” 
said the Resident ; and he led the way to the boat by which Mr. Per- 
owne had come across. 

The men were lying in the bottom asleep ; but they roused up 
directly as the two gentlemen entered and were rowed to the landing- 
stage at the foot of Mr. Perowne’s garden, where the swift stream was 
lapping the stones placed to keep it from washing the lawn away. 

As they were rowed across Neil Harley found himself looking 
tlioughtfully down into the water time after time, and a curious shud- 
dering sensation came upon him, one which he strove hard to cast off. 

He could not, he would not believe it possible, he told himself ; but 
in spite of his efforts, and the mastery he generally had over self, the 
thought would come. 

They found the servants ready with the answer that nothing had 
been seen of their young mistress, though they had continued searching 
ever since their master had gone away. 

“ Shall we look round ourselves ? ” said Mr. Perowme. 

“No, if you say the house has been searched.” 

“ I have been in every room myself.” 

“ Then let us go on to the doctor’s. We may find Hilton and Chnmb- 
ley there, and they perhaps can throw some light upon the matter.” 

Mr. Perowne bowed, and they hurried off to the doctor’s pretty biin- 
galow, a short distance away. 

“ They are not here, unless they are stopping to sleep.” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

“There is no light.” 

All the same the Resident tapped sharply at the door, and his sum- 
mons was followed by a thump on the floor, as if someone had leaped out 
of bed. 

The next moment a window was thrown open, and the doctor’s 
voice was heard. 

“Now then : who’s ill ? ” 

“ Don’t be alarmed, doctor,” said the Resident. 

“ Oh, it’s you, Harley. Had too much supper ? ” 

“ No, no. Tell me quickly. Did Hilton and Chumbley come home 
with you ? ” 

“No ; they went away ever so long before.” 

“ Did you see them go ? ” 

“No. Can’t say I did.” 

“ They have not been back to their quarters.” 

“ Stopped to have a cigar somewhere.” 

“ Perhaps so ; but tell me, when did you see Hilton last ? ” 

** I don’t know. Oh, yes I do. He went down towards the river, 
with a cigar in his mouth.” 


130 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


“ When did yon see my daughter? ” said Mr. Perowne, 

“Oh! are you there, Perowne? Well, I don’t know. Not for an 
hour before we came aAvay.” 

“An hour and a half,” said Mrs. Bolter’s yoice. “We didn’t see 
her "when we came away. ’ 

“ Did she go away with anycce, Mrs. Bolter ? ” exclaimed Perowne, 
eagerly. 

“ No ; I saw her walk towards the house by herself. I’ll get up and 
dress directly. Perhaps I can do some good. The poor girl has been 
overcome by the heat, Bolter, and fainted away somewhere in the grounds. 
We’ll both dress and come on directly, Mr. Perowne. Have the shrub- 
beries searched again. Henry, go and rouse up Arthur; he may bo 
useful.” 

“ Yes, call him,” said the Resident; “ ho was scon with her last, and 
may know w’here she went.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

IN TIIK MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. 

All Mrs. Bolter’s dislike to Helen vanished now that there was 
trouble on the way ; and dressing hastily, she ran across the little 
bamboo landing to knock at her brother’s door, but without receiving 
any answ'er, and knocking again sharply, she ran back to her own room 
to continue dressing. 

She threw open the window to admit a few breaths of fresher air, and 
in the silence of the night she could hear the receding steps of their 
late visitors. Then turning sharply she found Dr. Bolter yawning 
fearfully. 

“ Don’t be so unfeeling, Henry ! ” she cried ; “ who knows what may 
have happened ? ” 

“ Unfeeling be hanged I ” he said, tetchily. “ I only yawned.” 

“ And very rudely, Henry. You did not place your hand before your 
mouth.” 

“ A yawn, Mrs. Bolter,” he said, didactically, “is the natural effort 
made for ridding the system ” 

“ Of the effects of too much smoking and drinking,” said Mrs. Doctor, 
quickly. “ There, do make haste and dress, and then call Arthur again. 
He does not seem to be moving. How soundly he sleeps. He did not 
hear us when we came home or he would have spoken.” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” yawned the doctor. “ I was just in my beauty sleep, 
and thisc ailing me up is the heigh — hey — ho — ha — hum ! Oh ! dear 
me I I beg your pardon, my dear.” 

“Are you nearly ready, Henry?” said the lady, who would not 
notice the last most portentous yawn. 

“ Where the ” 

“Henry !” 

“ I mean where are my studs ? Oh ! all right.” 

“ Go and see if Arthur is awake, and tell him to get up directly.” 


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. 


131 


The doctor went slowly and sleepily out of the door, fumbling with 
his studs the while ; and without pausing to knock, walked straight 
into his brother-in-law’s room. 

“Hero, Arthur, old man, rouse up ! ” he cried. “ We’re going on 
to — hullo ! Here, Mary, he hasn’t been to bed ! ” ho shouted. 

“Not been to bed I ” cried the little lady. “Why, Arthur, you 
foolish ” 

“ Ho isn’t here, my dear,” said the doctor. 

“But — but he was here when wo came back, was ho not?” said 
Mrs. Bolter. 

* ‘ I don’t know ; I only knocked at his door. I was too sleepy to 
speak, my dear.” 

“Oh! Henry,” exclaimed Mrs. Belter, excitedly, “something must 
have happened, or dear Arthur would not have stopped away like this.” 

“I — I hope not,” sjiid the doctor. “There, be calm, my dear; wo 
know nothing yet.” 

“Yes — yes, I will be calm,” said the little lady, fighting hard to 
master her excitement; “but, Henry, if we have brought my poor 
brother over here to be the victim of some terrible accident, I shall 
never forgive myself.” 

“ Oh, stuff — stuff ! ” cried the doctor, as they looked round the room 
to find that the bed had not been touched. “ Don’t jump at conclusions. 
What did Harley say ? ” 

“ That Arthur was seen last with Helen Perowne — in the garden, I 
suppose.’ 

“ What ? Our Arthur seen with her last ? She missing — ho miss- 
ing — why, Jby jingo, Mary, that handsome puss has run away with 
him ! ” ^ ' 

The doctor burst into a hearty, chuckling laugh. 

“ Is this a time for jesting, Henry ? ” said Mrs. Bolter, angrily. 

“ Not at all, my dear,” replied the doctor, “ only it looks as if Arthur 
has made up his mind to do something startling.” 

“ Arthur — something startling ! What do you mean ? ” 

“ That he seems to have bolted with Helen Perowne ! ” 

“ Henry ! ” 

“ Well, my dear, they were seen together last, and they are now 
missing. What is one to say ? ” 

“ If you cannot say words of greater wisdom than that, Henry, pray 
be silent.” 

“ All right, my dear — come along.” 

But if the doctor w’as disposed to be silent, so was not his lady, who 
began to find out cause after cause for her brother’s absence. 

“ Someone is ill, I’m sure, Henry, and Arthur has been summoned to 
the bedside.” 

“ Nonsense ! If anyone were ill,” said the doctor, testily, “ I should 
be sent for ; and there is no one ill now, though we shall have half a 
dozen poorly to-morrow after that supper of Perowne’s.” 

“Then some terrible' accident has happened,” said Mrs. Bolter. 
“Arthur would never have stopped away like this without some special 
reason.” 


132 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Well, \re shall see,” said the doctor. 

“ Henry,” said the lady, suddenly ; and sb,e came to a full stop, 

“Yes, my dear.” 

“ Do you think it likely that Helen Perowne — poor foolish girl ! — 
■would do such a thing ? ” 

“ What, as to run off with Arthur ? ” chuckled the little doctor. 

“For shame, Henry ! I say-tlo you think she is likely to have 
walked down to the riverside because it is cool and slipped in ? There 
is not the slightest protection.” 

“No, my dear, I do not think anything of the sort,” replied the 
doctor, angrily. “She is a deal more likely to be courting some cox- 
comb or another in a shady walk, and they have forgotten all about the 
time. ” 

“Absurd ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Absurd, eh ? Why, that's what she is always thinking about. 
IIow many fellows has she been flirting with since we knew her 

“I am waiting for you, Dr. Bolter,” said the lady, austerely, “and 
I must say that I think your words are very unfeeling indeed.” 

“I’ll bleed her if she has fainted !” said the doctor, grimly. “I 
should like to bleed that girl, old-fashioned as the notion is! If I 
don’t, I’ll give her such a dosing as she shan’t forget in a hurry — 
calling a fellow up like this ! ” 

They hurried out into the starlit night, with everything seeming 
hushed and strange. The trees whispered low from time to time ; then 
came a sullen splash from the river, as if some huge creature had just 
plunged in. Once or twice came a peculiar, weird-sounding cry from 
the jungle — one which made Mrs. Doctor forget her annoyance with 
her husband and creep close to his side. 

Just then they heard hurried footsteps. 

“ Did you bring your pistols with you, dear ? ” whispered Mrs. Bolter. 

“No,” he said, sharply; “I’ve got a rhubarb draught, a bottle of 
chlorodyne, the sal-volatile, and a lancet. That will be enough. Think 
I meant to shoot the girl ? ” 

“ Don’t be absurd, dear ! Take care, there is someone coming.” 

“Another call for me ! ” grumbled the doctor, sleepily. “ That’s the 
effect of giving parties in a hot climate. Hullo ! ” 

“ Yes, doctor,” said a familiar voice. 

“ Oh ! it’s you two. Well, have you found her all right? 

“ We’ve been to Stuart’s,” said the Ilesident, sharply. 

“Well, what news?” 

“ They have not seen or heard of either of them,” replied the Resident. 

“ Do you know that my ” 

“ Oh, hush ! ” whispered Mrs. Doctor, excitedly. “ You had better 
not 

“ Why, they must know it, my dear,” he whispered back. “ It is of 
no use to hide anything. ” 

“ I did not understand you, doctor,” said the Resident. 

“ I say that my brother-in-law, Rosebury, has not been home.” 

“The chaplain I ” cried Mr. Harley, and he stopped short upon the 
path. 


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. 


133 


“Hasn’t been home,” continued the doctor, “They’ve all gone in 
somewhere. AVho else is away ? ” 

“Hilton and Chumbley.” 

“ Oh, it’s all right. They’re somewhere ; but it’s very foolish of 
them to frighten some people and rouse others up like this,” said the 
doctor. 

“ I hope we shall find a pleasant solution of what is at present a 
mystery,” said the Resident. “ Mrs. Bolter, it is very kind of you to 
come,” he added, warmly. 

“ Yes ; I thank you too,” said Pero-wne, in a dreamy, absent way. “It 
is very strange ; but where is Miss Stuart? ” 

“ Stuart said she was asleep,” said the Resident. 

“ Oh, to be sure. Yes ; I remember,” said Mr. Perowne. 

“We took her safely home,” said Mrs. Bolter, quickly. 

They had not far to go to the gates of the merchant’s grounds, but 
it seemed to all to be a long and dreary walk past the various dark 
houses of the European and native merchants, not one of which gave 
any token of the life within. 

The gates were open, and they walked over the gritting gravel to 
where the door stood, like the windows of the bungalow, still open, and 
a lamp or two were yet burning in the grounds, one of which paper lan- 
terns, as they approached, caught fire, and blazed up for a moment and 
then hung, a few shreds of tinder, from a verdant arch. 

It was a mere trifle, but it seemed like a presage of some trouble to 
the house, seen as it was by those who approach^, three of the party 
being in that unreal, uncomfortable state suffered by all who are roused 
from their sleep to hear that there is “ something wrong.” 

The servants looked scared as they entered, and announced that they 
had been looking, as they expressed it, “ everywhere ” without success. 

Lrfinterns were lit, and a thorough exploration of the gi’ounds 
followed, the only result being that a glove was found — plainly enough 
one that had been dropped by someone walking near the river. 

That was all, and the night passed with the searchers awaking every- 
one they knew in turn, but to obtain not the slightest information ; 
and daybreak found the father looking older and grayer by ten years as 
he stood in his office facing the Resident, the doctor, and Mrs. Bolter, 
and asking what they should do next. 

“We must have a thorough daylight search,” said Mr. Harley. 
“ Then the boatmen must all be examined. It hardly appears probable, 
but Hilton and Chumbley may have proposed a water trip. It seems 
to us now, cool and thoughtful, a mad proposal, but still it is possible.” 

“ Yes, and Helen would not go without my brother to take care of 
her,” said Mrs. Bolter, triumphantly, for she had been longing for some 
explanation of her brother’s absence, and this was the first that offered. 

“ Oh, no, Mary,” said the doctor, crushing her hopes as he shook his 
head. 

“ No, Mrs. Bolter,” said the Resident, slowly; and he seemed to be 
speaking and thinking deeply the while. “I am sure Miss Perowne 
could not be guilty of so imprudent an act.” 

“No,” said her father, speaking now more boldly and without 


134 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


reserve. ** You are right, Harley. Helen loves admiration, but she 
would not have compromised herself in such a way, neither w'ould Mr. 
Rosebury have given such an act his countenance.” 

The Resident raised his head as if to speak, and then remained silent. 

“ What are you thinking, Harley ? ” said the doctor. 

“ Yes, pray speak out,” cried Mrs. Bolter. “ I am sure we are all 
only too anxious to find some comfort.” 

“I was thinking of what could have happened to them, for depend 
upon it they are all together.” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Perowne ; “ but you were thinking more than thcUt.” 

“ I must think,” said the Resident. “I cannot say anything definite 
now.” 

“ Then I knoAv what it is,” cried Mrs. Bolter. 

“AVill you kindly speak out, madam?” said the old merchant, 
harshly. 

“ I should bo sorry to accuse falsely,” said Mrs. Bolter, excitedly ; 

but I was warned of this, and I can’t help thinking that someone else 
is at the bottom of this night’s work.” 

“ And who’s that ? ” said the doctor, quickly. 

Mrs. Bolter was silent. 

“ Rajah Murad, you mean,” said the doctor, quickly ; “ and he has 
been waiting his time.” 

“And now strikes at us like a serpent in the dark!” cried Mr. 
Perowne, angrily. “ It is the Malay character all over. Heaven help 
me ! My poor girl ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MRS. BARLOW. 

Mr. Perowne’s house was literally besieged the next nwrning, for the 
news of the disappearance ran through the little community like wild- 
fire. British and native communities were equally excited ; and after 
snatching an hour’s rest at the imperative command of his wife, the 
doctor was hastily swallowing some breakfast previous to going back to 
Mr. Perowne’s, but could hardly get on for interruptions. 

“ I am not alarmed, Henry,” said the little lady, in a quiet, decided 
way; “and I insist upon your being properly fortified before unduly 
exerting yourself. I could not bear for you to be ill.” 

The words were said very quietly, but in such a tone that Dr. Bolter 
set down his cup, and rising, left his place, and tenderly embraced the 
earnest little woman he had made his wife. 

“ I will take all the care I can, my dear Mary,” he said. 

“ I know you will, Henry,” said the little lady, whose lip quivered 
slightly as she spoke ; “ but now go and finish your breakfast, and then 
start. Don’t be une.asy about me, dear, but go and do what you think 
best under the circumstances.” 

“ I will, my love— I will,” said Dr. Bolter, with his mouth full of 
toast. 


MRS. Bi\JlLOW. 


1S5 


“ It all sounds very alarming, dear, but I cannot help thinking that 
it will be explained in a very simple mannei*.” 

“ I hope so,” 

“You see there are four of them ; and as Arthur is one, I think we 
may feel assured.” 

“Well, my dear, these are business times,” said the doctor, “and 
•we must speak in business ways, Arthur is the best old fellow in the 
■world ; but I am sorry to say that he is a terrible old woman.” 

‘ ‘ Henry ! ” said the lady, reproachfully. 

^ “ Well, my dear, he is. Now, would you have much confidence in 
him if it were a case of emergency ? ” 

“ I — I think I would sooner trust to you, Henry,” said the little lady, 
softly ; “ but do make haste and get a good breakfast. If you want 
me, send a message, and I will come directly.” 

“ All right,” said the doctor, rising once more. Now I’m off.” 

“ But one moment, Henry,” said the little lady, whose feelings now 
got the upper hand. “ Tell me, dear— do you think anything dreadful 
has happened ? ” 

“ What do you call dreadful, my dear ? ” said the doctor, cheerily. 

“ That the crocodiles ” 

She did not finish, but looked imploringly^ at her lord. 

“ Bah ! — stuff ! — nonsense ! No, Mary, I don’t.” 

“Then that this dreadful Rajah has carried them off ? ” 

“ If it had only been Madam Helen, I should have felt suspicious ; but 
what could he want with Hilton and Chumbley, or with our Arthur ? ” 

“ To marry them,” suggested Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Stuff I my dear, not he. If Murad had carried her off, he would 
not have bothered about a parson.” 

“ But Arthur was w^aiting about her all the evening.” 

“ So he was, my dear.” 

“ And he may have killed Hilton and poor Mr. Chumbley, while they 
were defending her.” 

“Yes, he might, certainly,” said the doctor, drily; “but how 
the ” 

“ Henry ! ” 

“I only meant dickens. I say how the dickens he was going to 
carry her off when he was at the party all the time I can’t see.” 

“ But was he ? ” 

“ To the very last. Oh ! It will all settle itself into nothing, unless 
Arthur has taken Helen off into the jungle and married her himself, 
with Hilton and Chumbley for witnesses.” 

“ Is this a time for joking, Henry ? ” said the little lady re- 
proachfully. 

“ Really, my dear, it woiild be no joke if Arthur had his own way.” 

“ I’m afraid,” sighed little Mrs. Bolter, “ that Helen Perowne had a 
good deal to do with my brother accepting the chaplaincy.” 

“ I’m sure she had,” chuckled the doctor. 

“ If I had thought so I would never have consented to come,” said 
the lady with asperity. 

“Wouldn’t you, Mary? Wouldn’t you?” said the little doctor, 


13G 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


taking her in his arms ; and the lady withdrew her words just as a step 
was heard outside. 

“Here’s another stoppage,” cried the doctor, impatiently. “ Why, 
it’s Mrs. Barlow. What does she want ? ” 

Mrs. Barlow was a widow lady of about forty, the relict of a well-to- 
do mercnant of the station, who, after her widowhood, preferred to stay 
and keep her brother’s house to going back to England ; at any rate, as 
she expressed it, for a few years. 

She was one of the set who visited at Mr. Perowne’s, and had also 
been at the trip up the river to the Inche Maida’s home; but being 
a decidedly neutral-tinted lady, in spite of her black attire, she was so 
little prominent that mention of her has not been necessary until now. 

“Stop a minute!” she exclaimed, excitedly, as she arrested the 
doctor on his step. 

“ Not ill, are you, Mrs. Barlow ? ” queried the doctor. 

“Not bodily, doctor,” she began, “ but ” 

“My wife is inside, my dear madam,” cried the doctor, “and I 
must be off.” 

“Stop ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Barlow, authoritatively; and she took the 
little doctor’s arm, and led him back into the breakfast-room. “ You 
are his brother. Dr. Bolter. Mrs. Bolter, you are his sister, ma’am. I 
can speak freely to you both.” 

“Of course, madam, of course,” said the doctor; and then to 
himself, “ Has the woman been taking very strong tea ? ” 

“I have only just learned the terrible news. Dr. Bolter — Mrs. 
Bolter,” cried the lady, “and I came on to you.” 

“ Very kind of you I am sure, ma’am,” 

“What do you think, doctor ? You have some idea.” 

“ Not the least at present, ma’am. I was just off to see.” 

“That is good of you; but tell me first,” cried the widow, half 
hysterically. “You do not — you cannot think — that that dreadful 
woman ” 

“ What, the Inche Maicla, ma’am ? ” 

“ No, no ! I mean Helen Perowne — has deluded him into following 
her away to some other settlement. ” 

“ Whom, ma’am, Hilton or Chumbley ? ” 

“ Oh, dear me, no, doctor ; I mean dear Mr, Rosebury.” 

“ Oh, you mean dear Mr. Rosebury, do you ? ” said the doctor. 

“ Yes, Dr. Bolter ; oh, yes. Tell me ; do you think that dreadful 
girl has deluded him away ? ” 

“ No, ma’am, I don’t,” cried the doctor, stoutly. “ Hang it all, no ! 
I’d give her the credit of a good deal, but not of that. Hang it, no.” 

“Thank you, doctor, said the lady hysterically. “Of course I 
should have forgiven it, and set it all down to her ; but you do mo 
good, doctor, by assuring me that my surmise is impossible. What do 
you think then ? ” 

“That’s it’s all a mystery for us to find out, and I was going to 
hunt it up when you stopped me, ma’am.” 

“Excuse me, Mrs. Barlow,” said little Mrs. Bolter, who had been 
fidgeting about, and waiting for an opportunity to speak, ‘ ‘ but will 


MES. BAELOW. 


137 


you kindly explain what you mean by your very particular allusions to 
my brother?” 

“ Must I ? ” said the lady, with a martyred look. 

“If you please, ma’am/” said Mrs. Bolter, sternly; and the little 
lady looked as if she were ready to apply the moral thumbscrews and 
the rack itself to the visitor if she did not make a clean breast. 

“ Do you not know ? ” whispered Mrs. Barlow, with a pathetic look, 
and a timidly bashful casting down of the eyes. 

“ No, ma’am, I do not,” said little Mrs. Bolter, haughtily. 

“ I thought you must have known,” sighed the lady. “ But under 
these circumstances, when he may be in terrible peril, perhaps crying 
aloud, ‘ Eosina, come to my aid,’ why should I shrink from this 
avowal? I am not ashamed to own it. Ah, Dr. Bolter — oh, Mrs. 
Bolter — I have loved him from his first sermon, when he looked down 
at me and seemed to address me with that soft, impressive voice which 
thrilled the very fibres of my heart, and now he is gone — he is gone ! 
What does it mean ! What shall wo do ? ” 

“Mary, you’d better administer a little sal-volatils, my dear,” said 
the doctor. “You know the strength ; I’m off.” 

The doctor backed out of the room, leaving Mrs. Barlow sobbing on 
the sofa, and hurried off in the direction of the Eesidency, talking to 
himself, on the way. 

“ This is something fresh ! ” he muttered ; and it isn’t leap-year 
either. Bum creatures women ! I wonder what Mary is saying to her 
now ! Here, paddle me across,” he said to one of the natives who was 
cleaning out his sampan ready for any passengers who might want to 
be put across to the island. 

As he neared the landing-stage, he found Mr. Harley anxiously busy 
despatching boat after boat up and down stream, each boat being 
paddled by a couple of friendly natives, and containing a non-conmis- 
sioned officer and private selected for their intelligence. 

“ Ah ! that’s right, Harley ! ” said the doctor, rubbing his hands after 
a friendly salute, and the information given and taken that there was 
not the slightest 'news of the missing people. “ But don’t you think 
we ought to take some steps ashore ? ” 

“ Wait a moment ; let me ease my mind by getting these fellows off,” 
said the Eesident, hoarsely ; and he gave the men the strictest injunc- 
tions to carefully search the banks of the river, and also to closely 
question every Malay they met as to whether anything of the missing 
party had been seen. 

Eight boats had been sent off upon this mission, the men accepting 
the task readily enough, irrespective of the promise of reward, and 
hardly had the last been despatched, when the Eesident proposed that 
they should go across to Mr. Perowme’s. 

“ It is only fair to consult him as to our next proceedings,” said the 
Eesident, gloomily ; and almost in silence they were paddled across to 
the mainland, and went up to the scene of the last night’s festivities, 
where everything looked dismal and in confusion. Half -burnt lanterns 
hung amidst the trees, tables and chairs w'ere piled up anyhow in the 
grounds, and the lawn was strewn with the ddris of the feast yet un- 


138 


OKE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


cleared away, the attention of the servants having been so much occu- 
pied with their search. 

The two new-comers found Mr. Perowne quite prostrate with his 
terrible anxiety, and Mr. Stuart trying, with his daughter, to ad- 
minister some little consolation in the way of hope. 

“ Cheer up, mon ! ” the old Scot was saying. I daresay she’ll turn 
up all right yet.” 

Mr. Perowne looked at him so reproachfully that the old Scot 
paused and then turned uneasily away. 

‘ ‘ Poor wretch I ” he muttered ; “ ho has trouble eneuch — enough, I 
mean. ” 

“Ah ! Harley, what news ? ” cried Mr. Perowne. 

“ None as yet,” was the reply. 

“ Have you sent out boats ? ” 

“ Yes, eight; and let us hope that they will discover something.” 

“ But you do not think they will ? ” 

The Eesident was silent. 

“Harley here thinks that the Eajah is at the bottom of it all,” said 
the doctor. 

“ Impossible ! ” cried the unhappy father. “ He was here when she 
was missed, or I might have suspected him. I fear it is something 
worse than even that.” 

“ I cannot help my suspicions,” said the Resident, quietly. “ Perhaps 
I wrong him.” 

“ I think ye do, Harley, ” said the old Scot. “ I saw him here long 
after Miss Helen must have been gone. I’m thinking she and the 
young officers have taken a boat and gone down the river for a wee bit 
of game, seeing the night was fine.” 

“ Oh ! papa,” cried Cray, “I am sure Helen would not have been so 
imprudent.” 

“ I’m sure it’s very kind of ye to think so well o’ your schoolfellow, 
but I’m no so sure. Trust me, the Rajah had no hand in the 
matter.” 

“He has plenty of servants who would work his will,” said the 
Resident, thoughtfully; “ but this charge of mine must not go forth 
to Murad’s ears. If I am wronging an innocent man, we shall have 
made a fresh enemy ; and Heaven knows we have enough without 
that ! ” 

“You may be right,” said the doctor, “but I have my doubts.” 

“ He’s wrong,” said old Stuart. “ He’s not the man with the spirit 
in him to do so stirring a thing.” 

“ And he would never take off those two young fellows and my 
brother-in-law.” 

“ I begin to think he has,” said Perowne, snatching at the solution 
once more, after holding the opinion and casting it off a dozen times. 
“ He has never forgiven her for her refusal. Are we to sit still under 
his insult, Harley ? You have plenty of men under your command.” 

“True,” said the Resident; “but should I be justified in calling 
them out and making a descent on Murad’s town upon the barest 
suspicion ? ” 


A NEW PHASE. 


139 


Suggestion after suggestion -was offered, as the reason of the Eesident’s 
remark was fully realized ; but as time went on the little knot of 
English people more fully than ever realized how helpless they were 
in the midst of the Malays, whose good offices they were compelled to 
enlist. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

A NEW PHASE. 

The meeting was soon after strengthened by the arrival of Mrs. Bolter 
and the principal ladies of the little community, when befoi’e long it 
became evident that Helen Perowne’s behaviour had made the ladies 
of one mind. 

Their sole idea was that which found vent at last from the lips of 
Mrs. Bolter, who, after a good deal of pressing as to her belief, gave it. 

“ I am very sorry to express my feelings upon the subject,” she said, 
“ and perhaps I am prejudiced ; but I cannot help thinking that Miss 
Perowne has eloped with Captain Hilton, and Lieutenant Chumbley 
has gone with them to save appearances.” 

“ That doesn’t account for Rosebury’s disappearance, my dear,” said 
the doctor, rather tartly, for ho was annoyed at his wife’s decided tone. 

“ I am sorry to say that Miss Perowne,” continued the lady, “ had 
gained a great deal of influence over my brother, and I daresay he 
would have acquiesced in anything she wished him to do.” 

“ I am quite sure you are wronging Helen, and Mr. Rosebury as 
well !” cried Gray Stuart, suddenly. “Mrs. Bolter, these words of 
yours are cruel in the extreme I ” 

“ Maybe, my dear,” said Mrs. Bolter, tightening her lips. 

“And I am sure,” cried Gray, “that Captain Hilton would never 
have taken such a step ; while Lieutenant Chumbley would have been 
the first to call it madness ! ” 

“And who made you their champion, miss?” cried old Stuart, 
sharply. 

“I only said what I thought was right, papa,” said Gray, with no 
little dignity. “ I could not stand by and hear Helen accused of so 
great a lapse of duty without a word in her defence.” 

“And I am sure, from her father to the humblest here,” said the 
Resident, taking Gray’s hand and kissing it, “ we all honour you for 
your sentiments, Miss Stuart. And now, Mrs. Bolter,” he continued, 
Uirning to the doctor’s wife, “as we have heard your belief, let me 
ask you, as a sensible woman, whether you think such an assertion can 
be true?” 

“ I don’t see w'hy you should take up the cudgels so fiercely on Miss 
Perowne’s behalf, Mr. Harley,” said the little lady, quietly. 

“ That is beside the question,” he retorted ; and I ask you again, do 
you think this true ? ” 

“I told you beforehand, Mr. Harley,” replied the lady, “ that I was 
no doubt very much prejudiced, and I believe I am; but I am at least 


140 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


frank and plain, and repeat, that after due consideration it does -wear 
that aspect to me.” 

“Speak out, Mrs. Bolter, please,” said the father. “ I will have no 
reservations.” 

“ It is a time, Mr. Perowne, when I feel hound to speak out, and 
without reservation. I grieve to say that Miss Perowne’s -whole con- 
duct has been such as to lead any thoughtful woman to believe that 
what I say is true.” 

There was a murmur of assent here from the ladies present. 

“ You are in the minority, Miss Stuart,” said the Resident, gravely, 
as he turned to Gray, who, pale of face and red-eyed, was now and 
again casting reproachful glances at the severe-looking little lady, 

“ and I thank you for what you have said.” 

“ I’m beginning to think myself that the wife is right,” said Dr. 
Bolter. “ She tells me she has been making inquiries amongst the 
Malay women — many of whom we know from their coming up to our 
house for help. They are very friendly towards us ; and if there was 
anything in the Murad theory they would have known, and let it out. 
You are wrong, my dear. I’m afraid you are wrong.” 

Gray raised her eyes to the doctor’s with quite a fierce look, and 
she turned red and pale by turns ere she answered, loyally : 

“ No, I am not wrong. Helen would not have been guilty of such 
an act. I know her too well. Neither,” she added, in a lower voice, 
“ would Captain Hilton.” 

“ Brave little partisan,” said the Resident, sadly. “You and I will 
fight all Helen Perowne’s detractors. As you say,” he cried, raising 
his voice, and a warm fiush showing through his embrowned skin, “ it 
is impossible ! ” 

Mr. Perowne had been called from the room before the discussion 
assumed quite so personal a nature, and now he returned, gazing 
piteously from one to the other as he was asked whether there was any 
new's. 

“ This suspense is terrible ! ” he moaned. “ Harley, Bolter, pray 
do something ! My poor child ! — my poor child ! ” . * 

There was a sympathetic silence in the now crowded room, as the 
occupants waited for one of the gentlemen to speak. Dr. Bolter looking 
at his wife, as if to ask, “ What shall I say ? ” and receiving for 
response a shake of the head. 

“ The Rajah must, I am sure,” cried Mr. Perowne, “be at the bottom 
of this terrible affair. Mr. .Harley!” he cried, passionately, “ I can 
bear this no longer, and I insist — I demand of you, as one of Her 
Majesty’s representatives — that you send troops up to the village at 
once ! ” 

“ I have thought of all this, Mr. Perowne,” said the Resident, “ but 
that would be a declaration of war, and I should not feel justified in 
taking such a step -vvithout authority from the Governor.” 

“ I do not care ! ” cried the father, frantically. “ War or no war, I 
demand that, instead of w-aiting in this cold-blooded way, you have 
the place searched ! This outrage must be due to the Rajah ! ” 

There was a low hum of excitement in the room, as all eagerly 


A PKINCE’S ANGER. 


141 


vatched for the Resident’s reply to "what seemed to be, but was not — 
a just demand. 

“I would gladly do as you wish, Mr. Perowne,” he replied, “the 
more readily because it is what my heart prompts ; but I must have 
some good grounds — stronger than mere suspicion — before I can do 
more than ask the aid of Murad, who is, as you know, a friendly Prince. 
Again, I must ask you to consider my position here, and my stringent 
instructions to keep on good terms with this Rajah. Recollect, sir, 
once again, to do what you propose would be interpreted by the 
Malays as an act of war. I have the whole community to study as 
well as youx feelings, sir — as well,” he added, in a low voice, only 
heard by Gray Stuart, “ as my own.” 

“ But my child — my child 1 ” groaned Mr. Perowne. 

‘ ‘ I have done what I could, sir ; sent messengers at once to Murad 
asking his aid, and whether any of his people can give us help.” 

“ You did not accuse him then ? ” said Mr. Stuart. 

“ How could I, sir, on suspicion ? No, I have done what is best.” 

“But it is horrible!” cried Mr. Perowne. “The thought of her 
being in the power of this unprincipled man is more than I can bear.” 

“ But we do not yet know, sir, that this is the case, whatever our 
suspicions may be.” 

“I think they are wrong,” cried Mrs. Bolter quickly, “for here 
comes someone to tell us who is right.” 

She pointed through the window as she spoke, and every head was 
turned to see the Rajah come hurrying up the pathway leading to the 
house, his steps seeming to partake of the excitement of the whole group, 
as he dashed up to the door ; and as soon as he was admitted he half 
ran into the midst of the silent assembly, gazing wildly from face to 
face, till his eyes rested upon Mr. Perowne, to whom he ran, threw his 
arms over his shoulders, and exclaimed, with a passionate, half-sobbing 
cry; 

“ Tell me — quick ! Tell me it is not true 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXXVL 
A prince’s anger. 

The merchant stared in the young Rajah’s convulsed face without speak- 
ing, and Murad exclaimed: 

“ I had heard news, and was coming down. Then came the mes- 
sengers ; but tell me,” he cried, “ I cannot bear it ! This is not true ? ” 
Mr. Perowne gazed fixedly in the dark, lurid eyes before him, as 
if fascinated by their power, and then said sternly : 

“ It is quite true, sir ; quite true.” 

“ No, no I ” cried the Malay Rajah, excitedly, “ not true that she is 
gone ; not true that she cannot be found ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” repeated the merchant again, in a low, troubled voice, 
‘ She was taken from us last night.” 


142 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


The Rajah uttered some words in his own.tongue that sounded like 
a passionate wail, as he staggered back, as if struck heavily, reeled, 
clutched at the nearest person to save himself, and then fell with a 
crash upon the floor. 

The little party assembled crowded round the prostrate man ; but 
at a word from Dr. Bolter they drew back, and he went down on one 
knee beside the young man to loosen his collar. 

“ A little more air. Keep back, please ! ” said the doctor, sharply. 

“ Mary, a glass of water.” 

As Mrs. Bolter filled a glass from a carafe upon the sideboard, the 
doctor took a bottle of strong salts offered by one of the ladies present, 
and held it beneath the young man’s nostrils, but without the slightest 
effect. 

Then the water was handed to the doctor, who liberally used it about 
the young Prince’s face, as the Resident drew near and gazed upon the 
prostrate figure, keenly noting the clayey hue of the face and the great 
drops of dank perspiration that stood upon the brow. 

“ What is it, doctor ? ” he whispered. 

“Fainting — over-excitement,” replied Dr. Bolter. “He’s coming 
round.” 

The fact was beginning to be patent to all, for a change was coming 
over the young man’s aspect, and ho began to mutter impatiently as 
the drops of water were sprinkled upon his face, opening his eyes at 
last and gazing about him in a puzzled wa}', as if he could not com- 
prehend his position. 

Then his memory seemed to come back with a flash, and he started 
up into a sitting position, muttered a few Malay words in a quick, 
angry manner, sprang to his feet, and then, with his eyes flashing, he 
snatched his kris from the band of his sarong, showing his teeth and 
standing defiant, ready to attack some enemy with the flame-shaped 
blade that was dully gleaming in his hand. 

“ Come, Rajah,” said the doctor, soothingly, “ be calm, my dear sir. 
You are among friends.” 

“Friends!” he cried, hoarsely. “No: enemies! You have let 
him take her away, I know,” he hissed between his teeth ; “ but you 
shall tell me. Who else has gone ? ” 

“ Captain Hilton,” said the doctor. 

“Yes, I "was sure,” hissed the Malay. “ He was always there at her 
side. I ■w'as ref — fused ; but I cannot sit still and see her stolen away 
by another, and I will have revenge — I will have revenge ! ” 

The Malay Prince’s aspect told plainly enough that he would have 
sprung like a wild beast at his enemy’s throat had he been present ; 
and saving Mrs. Bolter and Gray, who stood holding her hand, the 
ladies crowded together, one or two shrieking with alarm as the 
Resident quietly advanced to the young Malay. 

“ Put up your weapon, sir,” he said, firmly. “ We are not savages. 
Recollect that you are amongst civilized people now.” 

The Rajah turned upon him with so fierce and feline a look that 
Gray Stuart turned paler than she already was, and pressed Mrs. 
Bolter’s hand spasmodically ; but Harley did not shrink, he merely 


A PEINCE’S ANGER. 


143 


fixed the young man as it were with his eyes, before whose steady gaze 
the sullen, angry glare of the young Prince sank, and he stood as if 
turned to stone. 

“ Yes,” he said, in a guttural voice ; “ you are right ; ” and slowly 
replacing his kris in its sheath, he covered the hilt with his silken 
plaid before standing there with his brows knit, and the veins in his 
temples standing out as if he were engaged in a heavy struggle to 
master the savage spirit that had gained the ascendant. 

“That is better,” said the Resident, quietly. “Now we can talk 
like sensible men.” 

“ Yes,” replied the Rajah ; “ but it is hard — very hard. It masters 
me, and I feel that I cannot bear it. You know what I have suffered, 
and how I fought it down. Mr. Harley, Mr. Pei’owne, did I not act 
like an English gentleman would have done ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, yes,” said Mr. Perowne, hastily. 

“ I tried so hard that I might,” he whispered. “ I was born a 
Malay ; but I am trying to become more like you. I thought I had 
mastered everything ; but when I hear this news it is too much for me, 
and — Mr. Harley — doctor — give me something to make me calm, or I 
shall go mad.” 

He turned away and stood for a few moments with his back to them, 
W'hile the party assembled whispered their thoughts till the young man 
turned once more, and they saw that his face was calm and impassive, 
as if no furious storm of rage had just been agitating its surface. 

“ What are you going to do ? ” he said, in a low, deep voice, gazing 
from Mr. Perowne to the Resident .and back again. 

Search, sir, until w'e have found the lady,” said the latter 
quietly. 

“ 1 will help,” said the Rajah ; whose eyes emitted a flash that told of 
the rage in his heart. 

“ Thank you,” said the Resident, quietly. 

“You will pursue them ? ” continued the Rajah. “ Tell me, by your 
laws do you kill this man for what he h.as done ? ” 

“We do not think there is any need of pursuit, sir,” replied Mr. 
Harley, quietly ; “ we fear that there has been an accident.” 

“ I have brought down two nag.as, and two smaller boats,” cried the 
Rajah, eagerly. “ There are a hundred of my people waiting, Sh.all 
I send them to follow, or will you give them your commands ? They 
are your slaves until this is done.” 

The Resident stood thinking for a minute or two, and the Rajah 
turned from him impatiently. 

“We lose time!” he cried, angrily. “Mr, Perowne, you do not 
speak. Tell me — you .are her father — what shall I do ? ” 

Mr. Perowne held out his hand, which the Rajah seized. 

“ Thank you. Rajah,” he said, simply ; “ but we must be guided by 
WMsdom in what we do. Mr. Harley will speak directly. He is trying 
to help us. I cannot s.ay more,” he faltered. “lam crushed and 
helpless under this blow.” 

“ d'ut, mon ! don’t give w.ay ! ” whispered old Stuart, going to his 
Bide, “ Keep a stout hairt and all will be well.” 

10 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


14A 

A couple of hours of indecision passed awn,y, for the coming of the 
Hajah had thrown them o£E the track. They had had one scent to 
follow, and, however blindly, they were about to attempt it, but Avere 
now thrown back upon two other lines — the one being the suggestion 
of an accident ; the other of elopement. 

The hot day was wearing on, and the boatmen were returning boat 
by boat, but without the slightest information, not even a vague sug- 
gestion upon which hope could be hung. Still, nothing more had been 
done — nothing seemed possible under the circumstances ; and a general 
feeling of despondency was gathering over the little community, when 
a new suspicion dawned in the Resident’s mind, and he blamed himself 
for not having thought of it before. 

The suspicion had but a slight basis, still it Avas enough ; and eager 
as he w;is to find something to which he could cling, Neil Harley felt 
for the moment glad of the mental suggestion, and felt that all idea of 
some terrible boat accident might be set aside, for at last he had found 
the clue. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

NO FALSE SCENT. 

Neil Harley’s new suspicion, one which he Avas cautious not to mention 
as yet, was that, in accordance with the Malay character, this revenge- 
ful bloAV had come from one who owed the English community or 
Government a -grudge. 

The Rajah had been the first to suffer from suspicion, but his coming 
had cleared him somewhat in the eyes of his friends ; still there was one 
Avho might well feel enmity against the English for the part they had 
played, and this was one who had not been to clear herself from sus- 
picion. 

The Inche Maida had come to the Residency island humbly with her 
petition— a reasonable suppliant for help against her enemies. She had 
had her request, if not refused, at all events treated with official neglect. 
It was no wonder, then, that she should feel aggrieved, and, while 
Avearing the mask of friendship, take some steps to obtain mental 
satisfaction for the slight. 

The Resident pondered upon all this, and felt that she must naturally 
be deeply wounded. She had borne her disappointment Avith the 
patience and stoicism of one of her religion; but all the same she 
might have been waiting for an opportunity to strike. 

“ Allah’s will be done ! ” she had said at their last interview, when 
the Resident had made a further communication from Government; 
and she had bent her head and sighed deeply as she turned to go aAvay, 
but only to return,' shake hands with Mr. Harley, and thank him. 

“ You are a good man, Mr. Harley,” she had said, “ and I know you 
would have helped me if you could.” 

“ Yes, she has been most friendly ever since,” he mused, “ and her 
behaviour lust night at the party was all that could have been desired.” 


m FALSE SCENT. 


145 


Still, he argued, she \ras a Malay, and all this might have been to 
serve as a blind to her future acts. She must feel very bitter, and, 
■with all an Eastern’s cunning, she must have been nursing up her 
■wrath till an opportunity occurred for revenge. 

This perhaps would be that revenge. 

“ No,” he said, “ it was childish ; ” and ho felt directly after that he 
was maligning a really amiable woman. 

He ended by thinking that he could judge her by her acts. If she 
were innocent of all complicity in the abduction of Helen — if abduction 
it was — she would come and display her sympathy to her English 
friends in this time of trouble. 

“ What do you think. Miss Stuart?” he said, leading her into the 
opening of a window. “The Inche Maida has cause of complaint 
against us. Do you think she has had anything to do with getting 
Helen away ? ” 

“ No, I’m certain she has not,” cried Gray, flushing warmly. “ She 
is too good and true a woman.” 

“ Do you think she likes Helen ? ” asked the Eesident. 

“No, 1 think she dislikes her,” replied Gray ; “ but she could not be 
guilty of such a crime as you suggest.” 

“ I am suspicious,” said the Eesident. “ Why does she stay away ? 
She must have heard something by this time. Did you see her very 
late last night ? ” 

“ Yes, till very late — till after the disappearance. She was wonder- 
ing where Helen had gone.” 

“ Yes,” said the Resident, “that is all in her favour, my dear child ; 
but still she stops away.” 

“ No,” said Gray, quietly, “ she is not staying away. See : here she 
comes, with her servants. I think she has arrived to offer her services 
in this time of trouble.” 

Gray Stuart was right, for directly after the Malay princess entered 
the large drawing-room, eager with her offers of help, as her English 
friend had said. 

“ I did not know till a messenger came in,” she exclaimed, excitedly. 
“I was home late, and I was asleep. When I heard of the trouble at 
the station, I came and brought my servants. What shall I do ? ” 

She was most affectionate and full of pity for Mr. Perowne. To the 
Resident she was friendly in the extreme, and in a frank, genial way, 
utterly free from effusiveness; while to Gray Stuart she was tenderness 
itself, kissing her and talking to her in a low voice of the trouble, and 
keeping her all the time at her side. 

“Henry,” said little Mrs. Bolter, suddenly. 

“ Yes, my dear.” 

“ I don’t trust these black people a bit. They are very friendly and 
full of offers of service, but I cannot help thinking that they are at the 
bottom of all this trouble. Do you hear ? ” 

“ Yes, my dear, I hear,” said the doctor ; “ but I cannot say that 
you are right. It’s as puzzling as the real site of Ophir ; but I hope 
it will all come right in the end.” 

Suspicious as Mrs. Bolter felt, she did not show her feelings, but 


146 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


joined in the conversation ; and she was obliged to own that the con- 
duct of the Inehe Maida seemed to be quite that of an English lady 
eager to help her friends in a terrible time of trial. 

In the midst of the conversation that ensued there was the sound of 
voices outside, and the Kesident, closely followed by Mr. Perowne and 
the Eajah, hurried out to see if there was any news. 

One of the sergeants, with a private of Hilton’s company, had just 
arrived on the lawn, these being two of the men who had gone down 
the river in a sampan. 

“Ah! Harris,” exclaimed the Resident, eagerly, on seeing some 
thing in the sergeant’s face which told of tidings, “ what news ? ” 

The sergeant glanced at Mr. Perowne in rather a troubled manner, 
and hesitated. 

“ Speak out, my man, for Heaven’s sake ! ” exclaimed the latter, 
“ and let me know the worst.” 

“It mayn’t be the worst, six*,” replied the sergeant, with rough 
sympathy. “ I hope it isn’t, sir ; but we found a boat, sir — one of our 
own boats — left by the ‘ Penguin ’ for our use at the island.” 

“ Yes — yes, I know ! ” exclaimed Mr. Perowne. 

“ Quick ! speak out, Harris. What of her? ” cried the Resident. 

“She was lying bottom up, sir, on a bit of sand-bank, a dozen miles 
down the river, sir ; and this was twisted round one of the thwarts — - 
the sleeve just tied round, sir, to keep it in its place.” 

As he spoke he held up a light coat, saturated -with water, and 
muddy and crumpled, where it had dried on the w'ay back. 

Neil Harley took the coat and examined it carefully. Then laying 
it dowm, he said, slowly : 

“ It looks like Chumbley’s; but I cannot feel sure.” 

“I made sure it waa one of the lieutenant’s coats, sir,” said the 
sergeant, respectfully. 

“ Let us see the boat,” said Mr. Perowne. “ Where is it ? ” 

“ Down at your landing-stage, sir, and ” 

He stopped short, as if afraid he should say too much. 

“What is it, Harris ? Speak out,” said the Resident, sternly. 

“ She seems to have been laid hold of, sir, by one of them great river 
beasts. There’s a lot of teeth marks, and a bit ripped out of her side.” 

Mr. Perowne shuddered, and Neil Harley recalled the various stories 
he had heard of crocodiles attacking small boats — stories that he had 
heretofore looked upon as mythical, though he knew that the reptiles 
often seized the natives when bathing by the river bank. 

“As far as I could judge, sir,” said the sergeant, who, seeing that 
he gave no offence in speaking out, was most eager to tell all he knew, 
“ it seems as if the officers, sir, had taken the ladies for a row upon the 
river, when the boat perhaps touched one of the groat boasts, and that 
made it tul-n and seize it in its teeth. Then it was overset, and ” 

The men started and stopped short, for there was a faint cry of 
horror, and they all turned to see Gray Stuart standing there pale, 
with her lips apart, and a look of horror in her fixed eyes, as she saw 
in imagination the overturned boat, and the vain struggles of those who 
were being swept aw'ay by the rapid stream. 


DANGER AHEAD. 


147 


The whole scene rose before her eyes with horrible substantiality — 
ail that she had heard or been told of the habits of the great reptiles that 
swarmed in the river helping to complete the picture. For as she 
seemed to realize the scene, and saw the struggling figures in the water, 
there would be a rush and a swirl, with a momentary sight of a dark 
horny back or side, and then first one and then another of the hapless 
party would be snatched beneath the surface. 

But even then her horror seemed to be veined with a curious sensation 
of jealous pain, for she pictured to herself Helen fioating down the 
stream with her white hands extended for help, and Hilton fighting his 
w'ay through the water to her side. Then he seemed to seize her, and 
to make a brave struggle to keep her up. It was a hard fight, and he 
did not spare himself, but appeared to be ready to drown that she might 
live. The water looked blacker and darker whore they w^ere, and there 
was no help at hand, so that it was but a question of moments before they 
must sink. And as, with dilated, horror-charged eyes, Gray stared 
before her to w^here the river really ran sparkling in the sunshine, the 
imaginary blackness deepened, and all looked so smooth and terrible that 
she w'atched for where that dreadful glassiness would be broken by some 
reptile rising to make a rush at the struggling pair ; and — yes, there at 
last it was ! And with the name of Hilton half-formed upon her lips, 
she uttered another cry, and fell fainting in the Inche’s Maida’s arms. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

DANGER AHEAD. 

Gray Stuart lost her cavalier Chumbley soon after supper, for the 
Princess pointed to a chair beside her, Hilton being very quiet and 
distant, and in spite of several reproachful glances from his companion’s 
eyes, proving to be very poor company indeed. 

In fact, as soon as he could with decency give up what was to him a 
tiresome duty, Hilton left the Malay Princess’s side, making the vacancy 
that was filled up by Gray, w^hile soon after the Rajah came and took a 
chair upon the other side of the Scottish maiden, chatting to her with a 
slight hesitancy of speech but pleasantly and well. 

“ Do you enjoy — this party ? ” he said. 

“ Oh ! so much ! ” replied Gray. “ It is so different from anything 
at home.” 

“ At home ? ” queried the Prince, who knew the simplicity of old 
Stuart’s household. 

“ I mean at home in England.” 

“ Oh ! yes, I see. At home in England, ’’said the Prince, musingly. 
“I must go and see at home in England. I should like to go,” 

“You would be much pleased, I am sure,” said Gray, smiling ; “ but 
it is a very bad climate.” 

“That is why you English come to our beautiful land. I see!** 
exclaimed the Prince. “ But you enjoy yourself— this party ? ” 


148 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Oh ! very much ! ” cried Gray ; but a shad6w crossed her countenanca 
as she spoke. 

“I have said I -will try and pass you all,” said the Prince, laughinjj. 
“ I mean mine to bo the greatest of the fetes. It must be ; for if I do 
not make mine a grander party than all, my people will look down upon 
me, and say, ‘ See how weak and poor he is compared to the English I * 
I must make mine very brave and good.” 

I hear what you are saying,” exclaimed the Inche Maida ; “ but I 
will excel you ; for I will give another party, greater, and brighter, and 
more beautiful still. Miss Stuart will help me with good advice, and 
mine shall be more English than yours. We will not be beaten.” 

“No, no!” said the Eajah, laughing; “do not help her. Miss 
Stuart ; help me, and I will be so grateful. It is so ejisy to say I will 
give a grand party, but it is hard to make it so that it will please these 
English gentlemen and ladies.” 

“ Ladies and gentlemen. Prince,” said the Inche Maida. 

“ Of course — yes,” he replied. “ That is where I make things wrong. 
You English place the ladies first, and I always make mistakes like 
that.” 

“ You will soon acquire our habits,” said Gray, who could not help 
her eyes wandering in search of Hilton. 

“ Thank you,” said the Prince. “I shall try; but as I say, it is so 
hard to make a feast quite right. If I want to make a banquet for my 
people with flowers, and fireworks, and elephants, and gongs, and tom- 
toms, it is all so easy ; but an English party, to satisfy all you — ah ! it 
is too much.” 

Meanwhile, heart-sick and disgusted with everything and everybody 
present, Hilton wandei;ed away to the pago.ia, where Mr. Stuart had 
taken up his quarters directly after supper. 

“Hullo! young fellow,” said the old merchant, gruffly, “come to 
your senses again ? ” 

“Senses? Haven’t been out of them that I know of,” retorted 
Hilton. 

“ Well, ye’ve been running wild after Pcrowne’s lassie.” 

“ Mr. Stuart ! ” 

“ And one never sees her without Captain Hilton ahint her.” 

“ Mr. Stuart, I was not aware that I was answ’erable to you for my 
conduct,” exclaimed the young officer, hotly, 

“Nay — nay — nay — dinna — don’t be fashed, laddie, I was vexed to 
see ye rinning after a lassie who will tlirow ye over for the next man 
she secs — that’s a’ ” 

“ Mr. Stuart, I will not listen to anything in Miss Perowne’s dis- 
paragement ! ” cried the young man hotly. “How dare you speak to 
me like this ! ” 

“ Have a cigar, laddie ? ” said the old Scot, drily. “ They’re verra 
good, and they’ll soothe ye dowm better than anything 1 ken.” 

Hilton glared at him angrily. 

“ There, there, there, let me have my say, laddie. I rather like ye, 
Hilton, though ye are only a soldier; so don’t fly in a passion with an 
old man. Tak’ a cigar.” 


DANGER AHEAD. 


149 


Hilton hesitated, but finally took the cigar, lit it, and began to smoke 

“ I ken weel what’s wrong,” said the old man ; “ but never heed it, 
mon. It mak’s ye sore to-day, but ye’ll soon get over it. I’ve seen 
iverything that’s gone on sin the lassies have been here. Try a drappie 
o’ that whuskie, laddie ; that and yon cigar wi 11 mak’ ye forget all about 
the trouble wi’ the girl.” 

“Mr. Stuart, I must request you to be silent upon this question, 
unless you wish to quarrel.” 

“ Quarrel ? Not I, lad! I’m as peaceable a body as ever lived ; but 
tak’ my advice — don’t wherret yoursel’ about Helen Perowne. She’s 
not made for ye.” 

“Sir!” 

“ Hoot, laddie, in a passion again ! I tell ye you’re much too good 
for such a body as she. I ken she’s handsome enough for an angel ; 
but what’s all that if she don’t care a twistle o’ the finger for ye ? ” 

Bertie Hilton frowned heavily and smoked furiously ; while, when 
the old merchant thrust the whisky decanter towards him, he snatched 
it up, poured out half a tumbler full, and had stretched out his hand to 
take it and gulp it down, when, to his surprise and anger, old Stuart 
snatched the tumbler away, poured half of the spirit back into the 
decanter, and then filled up the tumbler with water. 

“ Not while I’m sitting by ye, Bertie Hilton,” said the old man. “ I 
like my whuskie, and Hike to see a fren’ enjoy his drappie wi’me; but 
it must be a drappie. When I see a man making a fool o’ himsel’ by 
taking more than is good, I just stop him if I can, as I stopped you.” 

The young man’s face flushed, and an angry remark was about to 
issue from his lips, when the ridiculous and friendly sides of the 
question presented themselves to him, and instead of going into a fit of 
temper consequent upon his irritable state, he burst into a hearty fit of 
laughter. 

“ Hah ! That’s better, my lad,” said the old merchant, smiling in his 
dry, grim fashion, “I like that. Ye’re an officer and ye know how to 
command yourself as well as your men. Now then, sit down and sup 
your whuskie and smoke like a man.” 

“You shall bo obeyed, sir,” said Hilton, good-humouredly. 

“ That’s right, laddie. Tak’ your misfortunes like a man. I know it’s 
hard to bear, and nothing wherrets a man more than seeing a lassie play 
wi’ others before his very een, when a’ the time she has been leading 
him to believe she cares for him alone ? ” 

“ Would it be a very difficult task to you, Mr. Stuart, to leave my 
private affairs alone ? ” said Hilton, quietly. 

“ Oh, ay. I’ll leave them alone if ye’ll only be sensible and act like a 
mon. Bertie Hilton, ye’re a big mon, and a captain in Her Majesty’s 
service, and ye’ve been acting like a weak boy.” 

Hilton’s eyes flashed again as he turned angrily upon the old man, 
who seemed to become more Scottish in his language as he slowly im- 
bibed his native drink. 

“ I see ye glowering at me, my lad ; but I dinna mind it, for I’m one 
of your best frens, and when I thrash ye with words about your lassie 
it’s a’ for your good. There, baud yer whisht. I ken what ye’d say, 


150 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


that ye’re a mon and not a boy to be dictated to by an old Scotchman 
like this.” 

“ Well, I was thinking something of the kind, Mr. Stuart, and so I 
tell you frankly, ’’cried Hilton, who could not help feeling amused at 
the old man’s dry ways. The reproofs, too, came at a +irae when the 
younger was very much open to conviction, for his experiences of the 
last few days had all been towards showing him that Helen Perowne 
was trifling with him, and if she were now, he felt that she had been 
from the first. 

Still, it was very painful to be taken to task like this upon so tender 
a subject ; and after sitting awhile with the old man, he suddenly 
jumped up, relit his cigar, which he had allowed to go out, and nodding 
shortly, he strolled out of the pagoda into the grounds. 

‘ ‘ Coming to his senses,” said old Stuart, in a thoughtful way. “ Hah ! 
I should go rather cross if my lassie were to carry on like Perowne’s 
Helen. Why, she drives nearly all the young fellows wild. The young 
hussy ! she ought to be shut up in a convent till she comes to her senses. 
I’d have none of it at home with me.’' 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

A SUPPLEMENT TO A STRANGE EVENING. 

It was very beautiful in the gardens, and in spite of the number of 
people present, the place was so large that Hilton had no difficulty in 
finding a shady path in whose gloom he could walk up and down, find- 
ing the silence and darkness congenial in his present state of mind. 

Every here and there there were lanterns, and flashes of light came 
from the illuminated lawn in company W'ith the strains of music; but 
for the greater part the light was that from the great soft stars in the 
begemmed arch overhead, and the music that of the swift river rippling 
against the bank. 

What should he do ? he. asked himself. Would he not be acting a 
wiser and a more manly part if he at once gave up his pursuit of Helen, 
and treated her with the contempt she deserved ? 

For she did deserve contempt. He felt this, and he knew the state 
of the warm afl'ection he had had for her. He knew she had flirted a 
little before, but he looked upon that as mere maiden trifling before 
she had been ready to bestow upon him all the riches of her fresh young 
love. He was ready to condone anything that had taken place before ; 
but when, after some long experience, he found that he was only being 
made the plaything of the hour, and that she was ready to throw him 
over in favour of the newest comer, his heart rebelled. 

The fact was that Hilton was coming back to his normal senses very 
fast, and the idol that he had been worshipping and accrediting with 
all the perfections under the sun, was beginning to assume a very 
matter-of-fact, worldly aspect in his eyes. 

The chaplain, officer after officer on board ship, Chumbley, Mr. 


A SUPPLEMENT TO A STRANGE EVENING. 


151 


ITarley, himself— they had all been favoured lovers in turn, and then 
thrown over after a certain amount of trifling. 

“ I cannot think how I could have been so foolish ! ” he exclaimed, 
suddenly ; “ and yet she is very beauiiful— most beautiful ; and when 
she gives a fellow one of those tender, beseeching looks, he need be 
made of iron to resist her.” 

He walked up and down a little longer, finished his cigar, lit another, 
and went on, evidently feeling in better spirits. 

“I shall get over it in a few days,” he said, with a half laugh, “un- 
less I turn disappointed swain, and go and jump into the river. The 
crocodiles would soon make short work of mo. By Jove ! how beauti- 
ful those fire-flies are ! ” he exclaimed. 

Then he sighed, and went backward mentally. 

“ They put one in mind of Helen’s beautiful eyes,” he muttered, 
“Beautiful Helen ! Bah ! Stuff 1 I’ll be fooled by no woman living ! 

“ ‘ Shall I, wasting in despair, 

Die because a woman’s fair ? 

Shall I pale my cheeks with care 
Because another’s rosy are ? ’ ” _ 

lie sang softly, enjoying more and more the delicious coolness of the 
breeze off the river. 

“I’m nearly cured,” ho said, bitterly. 

“♦I know a maiden fair to see. 

Take care ! 

She can both false and friendly be, 

Beware ! beware 1 
Trust her not. 

She is fooling thee I ’ ” 

He sang again in a low voice. 

“My case exactly. Oh ! my dear madam. I’m afraid 3’ou will come 
to grief one of these days, for it is not every fellow who will give you 
up as I do, and hide his wound under a smiling face. 

“And do I give her up?” he said, softly; and there W'as a tender, 
dreamy look in his eyes as ho spoke. 

“ Bah ! what a madman I am ! ” he cried, with a mocking laugh ; 
“she throws me over as she has thrown over others. AVhat an idiot I 
was not to see all this sooner ! 

“ The old story — the old story,” he muttered. “ Man’s vanity and 
woman’s pride. I w’as conceited enough to think that, though she 
might trifle with others, I was her one special choice. There was no 
such other man upon the earth as I, Captain Hilton, the Apollo among 
his fellows. Serve me right ! ” he cried, passionately, “ for a weak fool, 
and I deserve it all, if only to be a lesson to bring me to my senses ? 

Growing excited with his thoughts, he strolled down another path, 
leading to the lower lawn which sloped to the river. 

“ I wonder who is with her now ! ” he muttered, as he gazed with 
lowering brow at the smooth, star-spangled stream. 

“What does it matter I I’ll get a lesson in nonchalance from old 


152 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Chum ! IVe been fooled like the rest, I hiight hare known that I 
should be, but I was conceited enough to think that I had thoroughly 
won her heart.” 

He told himself that it was all over now, and smoked away viciously, 
sending forth great puffs of vapour, still thinking of his position. 

“ What the dickens did that woman, the Inche Maida, mean ! ” ho 
said, suddenly, as he strolled now close beside the river in complete 
forgetfulness of all the dangers with which it was invested by his 
friends. “ Why, if I were a conceited fellow — well, so I am, horribly,” 
he said, bitterly — “I should have fancied that she was making love to 
me. It is too ridiculous ! ” he exclaimed, stopping short, and seeing 
nothing but introspectively, hearing nothing but the echoes of his own 
thoughts. “This place is growing hateful to me. I shall get leave 

or exchange. I feel as if I could not stay here any longer, and 

Hah ! Help ! What ! Good Heav ” 

The rest of Hilton’s words did not reach the soft midnight air, for, 
deep in thought, he had not seen the shadow even of the coming danger 
■which had fallen in an instant, and his mad struggles were proving all 
in vain. 


CHAPTER XL. 

PLUS. 

As Hilton cried for help his voice sounded stifled and dull, while he 
vainly tried to cast off a great woollen cloth that had been deftly 
thrown over his head. It took hardly an instant before it was wound 
tightly round him. Then a rope was twisted so rapidly round arms and 
legs, that he was turned, as it were, into a complete mummy ; and when 
his assailants threw him upon the grass he was so helpless that they 
literally rolled him over and over down the slope of closely-shaven 
herbage into a large row-boat, into whose bottom ho fell without pain, 
and almost without a sound. 

“ I thought it was the crocodiles,” he said to himself, as his heart 
beat painfully ; and then he began to writhe in spirit at his want of 
caution, for he felt sure that this, the capture of an officer, was one of 
the first steps towards an attack upon the Residency island. 

Just then he heard a voice, and what seemed to be a whispered order 
in Malay; and the boat might have been seen to glide away like a 
shadow over the starry water, breaking it up into spangles as it went 
on and on towards the middle of the stream without so much as a 
sound. 

Then a pang shot through the young officer’s heart, to tell him that 
he was not, in spite of his word, quite cured, for his first thought now 
was : 

“ What will become of Helen ! ” 

A few minutes later Chumbley strolled up to the pagoda, where old 
Stuart was comfortably enjoying his glass. 

Well, old fellow,” he drawled ; “ not melted away yet,** 


PLUS. 


153 


** No ; nor you neither,” retorted the old merchant. “ Want some 
whuskie ? ” 

“ No ; I want a cigar,” said Chumbley ; and he helped himself from 
the box. “ Seen anything of Hilton ? ” he asked, as he lit the roll of 
tobacco. 

“ Yes ! hero a bit ago, and then went off to smoke in the cool air. 
Leave my little girl all right ? ” 

“ Yes; she was sitting talking to the Princess and the Rajah in front 
of the house, What a lovely night ! ” 

“Humph, yes. Pretty well; but you should seethe night, laddie, 
over one o’ the Scottish lochs, wi’ the ootline o’ a mountain stannin 
oot i’ front o’ the northern sky. Ay, but that’s a sight.” 

“Yes, s’pose so,” said Chumbley ; “ but as we can’t have the night 
over the Scottish loch, isn’t it as well to make the best of this? ” 

“ Humph ! yes,” said the old man ; “ but I’m getting tired of sitting 
here. I want to go back home. How much longer is this tomfoolery 
going to last ? ” 

‘ ‘ Can’t say, sir. Why don’t you go on to the lawn and have a chat ? ” 
Pah ! Do I look like a man who could do that sort of thing ? ” 

“Can’t say you do,” replied Chumbley, cheerfully. “Well, I’m 
going to look for Hilton ! ” and stepping out of the pagoda he went 
across the lawn, with his hands deep down in his pockets. 

“Now let’s see,” he said to himself, as he strolled lazily on, “where 
would that chap be likely to have stuck himself up for a quiet smoke ? 

“ Seems to have had a tiff with beauty to-night. P’r’aps she has 
pitched him as she has other people before, present company not excepted. 
All the more likely for him to have gone off for a quiet smoke. Now 
where would he go ? ” 

There was a pause here, as if for someone else to answer, but as no one 
did— 

“ Down by the river,” he said — “ safe.” ^ 

Chumbley thrust his hands lower down into his pockets, and as if led 
by Fate, he followed slowly almost the very track taken by Hilton so 
short a time before. 

Finding that portion of the extensive grounds quite solitary, Chumb- 
ley began to hum what was meant for an air, in a peculiar voice more 
remarkable for noise than tune — due, no doubt, to his having his cigar 
in his lips, at which he gravely sucked away as if keeping time to the 
melody he emitted with the smoke. 

“ Grass too damp to lie down,” he said to himself, “ else it would bo 
rather jolly, and I’m precious tired. Not safe though. Old Bolter 
would vow there was rheumatism and fever in every blade. Why the 
dickens don’t they put garden seats down here ? ” ^ 

He strolled on, casting his eyes about in every direction in search of 
his friend. 

“Precious dark!” he said. “Now where has old Hilton hidden 
himself? Hallo! Why there he is I What a jolly old lunatic he 
must be. I wonder what old Bolter would say ? ” 

For not very far from the bank of the stream, ho could dimly make 
out a figure lying apparently asleep. 


154 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


Chumbley immediately began to think of" the ri^ks to be incurred 
from crocodiles, and walking quickly up he bent down over the sleep- 
ing figure. 

“ Here — hi ! Hallo ! Bertie, is that you ? Hang it, man, don’t lie 
there ! ” 

There was no reply, and Chumbley hesitated as to whether he should 
touch the figure. 

“ ’Tisn’t Hilton ! ” he said to himself. “ One of the servants, per- 
haps, keeping up his Mohammedan rules on the question of wine upon 
the wrong side. 

“ Hallo ! you sir ! ” he cried, aloud, “ ’Tisn’t safe to lie there ; do you 
hear ? ” and going down on one knee, he turned the figure completely 
over. “ Here wake up or the crocs will have you ! Is anything the 
matter ? ” 

“ Help me up, ” came in reply, spoken in good English. 

Chumbley was too earnest a man to resist that appeal ; and bending 
lower, he tried to pass one hand beneath the prostrate figure, the man 
feebly laying his hands upon the lieutenant the while. 

Then, in an instant, the feeble clasp became one of iron ; and before 
Chumbley could more than realize that he was being held, a second 
figure bounded from behind a bush on to his back, dexterously throw- 
ing a sort of bag over his head and drawing it tight about his neck. 

The young officer was taken by surprise ; but he was not so easy a 
prey as Hilton. As a rule, Chumbley resembled the elephant in his 
slow, ponderous movement. Now, there was something almost leonine 
in his activity, the latent almost herculean strength he possessed being 
brought into play. 

Uttering a smothered roar, he tried to shake of his assailants as they 
clung to his back and neck, pinioning his arms, and holding on so 
closely, that in the dark the figures of the three men seemed like one 
huge monstrous creature writhing savagely upon the grass. 

Four more dark figures had suddenly appeared upon the scene, look- 
ing weird and strange in the starlight ; and while the distant sound of 
voices, with an occasional burst of laughter, came to where the struggle 
was going on, all hero was so quiet — save for the oppressed breathing 
— that no attention was drawn Cowards them from the visitor-dotted 
lawn. 

The fresh-comers leaped at Chumbley like dogs at their hunted 
quarry ; but so fierce was the resistance that one of them was dashed to 
the earth, the others shaken off, and the young man followed up the 
display of his tremendous strength by making a blindfold effort to run. 

The probabilities are that, as he had instinctively taken the direction 
leading to the house, he would have got so far that his assailants would 
not have cared to follow, had not one of them thrust out a foot as 
Chumbley was passing, and tripped him up, when he fell with a heavy 
thud to the ground. 

Before he could make a fresh effort to rise, half a dozen Malays wero 
upon him ; and while some sat and knelt upon, others bound him hand 
and foot. 

Then they paused to listen whether the struggle had been overheard ; 


PLUS. 


155 


"but finding that it had excited no attention either at the house or the 
Residency island, they leisurely rolled their prisoner over and over 
down the grassy slope into a waiting boat close up to the bink. A few 
vessels of water were dipped, and quickly poured over the grass where 
the struggle had taken place, and then once more the star-spangled 
surface of the river was broken up as a shadowy boat softly glided out 
to the middle of the river, and then seemed to die away. 

But the incidents of the night were not yet at an end, Fate seeming 
to lend her aid to bring them to one peculiar bent. 

For, hot and weary of the insipid attentions of her new conquest, 
and fagged out with her task of entertaining so many guests, Helen 
Perowne began to think of how she should escape, wishing the while, 
that everyone would go, and far from satisfied with the result of her 
last encounter with Hilton. 

She looked round the lit-up space for someone on whom to inflict 
herself, but Hilton was not there ; she could see neither Chumbley nor 
the Resident, only several of the younger men, merchants and civil officers 
— no one at all worth talking to save the chaplain, who had been 
watching her wdstfully all the evening, and who noAV stood with one 
hand resting upon a chair, looking as if he would have given his life 
for one kind word from her lips. 

“ Poor Arthur ! ” she said, in a half amused, half troubled way, “ I 
wish he would not be so -weak ? ” 

She gave another impatient look round, but there was no victim 
worthy of her arrows ; and with an imperious glance at Arthur Rose- 
bury, she let her eyes once more pass over the various groups of guests, 
for the most part carrying on an animated conversation, and turned to 
enter the house. 

Just as she reached one of the open French windows, a Malay servant 
approached, and saluted her respectfully. 

“ The master says will the mistress come down the garden a minute 
to speak to him ? ” 

“ How' tiresome ! ” she exclaimed, petulantly. “ Where is my father ? ” 

“ By the river, mistress, where it is cool to smoke,” replied the man, 
softly. “ He says he will not keep you, but you must come at once.” 

This was all in broken English, but sufficiently plain to be understood. 

“ He might have come to me,” said Helen, impatiently. “ I am so hot 
and tired. There, go on. No, not that way. Let us go by the side path.” 

The man bowed and went on, with Helen following, when the chap- 
lain seized the opportunity to join her. 

“ It is getting cold and damp. Miss Perowne,” he said, softly. “ Will 
you let me put this over your shoulders ? ” _ 

“What !” she said; “have you been carrying that ever since I 
gave it to you hours ago ? ” 

The chaplain bowed, and held the light, filmy shawl, that he had 
felt it a joy to bear, ready to throw over her shoulders! 

“ No,” she cried, petulantly, “lam too hot as it is. There,” she cried, 
relenting, as she saw his fallen countenance, and for want of another 
victim, “ you may come with me and carry the shawl till 1 want to pub 
it on.” 


156 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


The chaplain’s heart gave a bound, and, too pleased to speak, he 
followed Helen closely as the man led her toward the bottom of the 
lawn, where, as they drew nearer, a dark figure could be dimly seen 
slowly pacing up and down. 

“ How angry dear Mary vmuld be if she knew,” thought the Reverend 
Arthur ; “ but I cannot help it. I suppose I am very weak, and it is my 
fate ? ” 

“ What is wrong now ? ” thought Helen, whose conscience was quick 
to take alarm. “Is he going to speak to me about Hilton? No ; he 
would not have — he could not have been so cowardly as to speak to my 
father about our quarrel. ” 

They were very near now, and Helen could see that her father had 
one hand up to his face, resting the elbow in his other hand. 

“It cannot be about Murad. That must be over,” mused Helen. 
Then aloud, “ Is anything the matter, papa ? Are you unwell ? ” 

At that moment she realized the fact that the figure in evening dress 
was not her father, the chaplain noticing her start, and trying to go 
forward to her aid ; but, as he took a step, a hand was clapped over 
his lips, an arm tightly embraced him, and as he dimly saw a white 
handkerchief tied across Helen’s face, he was lifted from the ground 
and borne away, too much surprised to do more than struggle weakly 
at such a disadvantage that even a strong man would have been as help- 
less as a child. 

Helen made an effortlto shriek for aid, but a black cloud seemed sud- 
denly to envelop her in the shape 6f a great cloth, wrapping her round 
and round. Then she felt herself lifted from her feet, and half-stifled, 
half-fainting with the horror of her situation, she was just conscious of 
being carried for a few minutes, and then of being placed in a boat ; 
while in the midst of her horror and excitement there seemed to come 
up before her the faces of her three old mistresses at the calm, quiet 
school, then that of Gray Stuart looking reproachfully, and then all 
faded away into one complete void. 


CHAPTER Xli 

A FLOATING CAPTIVITY. 

What seemed to be an endless ride by water, during which the captives 
felt over and over again as if they would be suffocated by the folds of 
the cloths in which they were enveloped. 

Several times had the two first prisoners made such desperate efforts to 
free themselves that the boats in which they were rocked dangerously, 
that in which Chumbley had been thrown shipping a little water more 
than once ; but finding by degrees that it was only a waste of strength, 
and contenting themselves with the idea that though an Englishman 
may never know when he is beaten, they had done everything possible 
to vindicate their character, they lay quite still, dripping with perspira- 
tion and gasping for air. 


A FLOATING CAPTIVITY. 


157 


An hour must have gone by when, in each boat, as the prisoner lay 
perfectly quiescent, it seemed to strike the captors almost simul- 
taneously that if something were not done suffocation might ensue. 
Under these circumstances efforts were made to give them a little of 
that bounteous provision of air that was waiting to revive their 
exhausted frames. 

Chumbley was lying upon his face in the bottom of the boat, the 
exhaustion having produced a semi-delirious sensation in which he 
fancied that he was in evening dress, of a very thick texture, dancing 
in a crowded ballroom, and so giddy that he was in a constant state of 
alarm lest he should hurl his partner, tha Malay princess, headlong 
upon the floor. 

This sensation kept coming and going with saner thoughts of having 
done his best, and its being useless to struggle, in the midst of one of 
which intervals he awoke to the fact that his hands were being held 
tightly behind him, and back to back. Then someone, with a deftness 
of habit that told of long custom, tied his thumbs together, and then 
his little fingers. 

Next he felt a stout cord passed round his ankles and another about 
his legs just above the knees, after which the thick cloth was drawn 
from his head, and he gasped and panted as he filled his lungs again 
and again with the pure night air, which cleared his brain and sent the 
crowded ballroom, the thick costume, and the giddiness of the waltz 
far back into the unreal region from which they came. 

For a moment he revelled in the sight of the brilliant star-lit heavens, 
and then, almost before he knew it, a cloth was bound tightly round 
his eyes. 

“A seizure by banditti,” muttered Chumbley, “quite in the romantic 
style, and I shall be held to ransom, when, seeing that I have nothing 
but my pay — and that is hardly enough for my expenses — I may say, 
in the words of the monkey who held out his tail to the chained-up dog, 

‘ Don’t you wish you may get it ! ’ Oh, I say, though, I’m as sore as 
if I’d been thrashed. Whatever game is this ? ” 

*• If you will promise to be silent,” said a deep voice at his ear in 
the Malayan tongue, “we will not thrust a cloth into your mouth.” 

“I wish they’d pour a glass of Bass into it instead,” thought 
Chumbley. “I say, you sir,” ho replied, in as good Malayan as he 
could command, “ what does this mean ? ” 

“Wait and see.” 

“ Are you going to kris me ? ” 

“No.” 

“Well that’s a comfort,” muttered Chumbley. “I might have 
known it by their taking so much trouble, though five minutes ago it 
■w'ould have been a charity to put me out of my misery.” 

“ Will you be silent if I leave your mouth free ? ” was asked again. 

“I don’t see that it’s of much use to halloo,” said Chumblee, 
sullenly , “ but look here, old chap, what does this mean ? Tell my, 
and I’ll be as quiet as a lamb.” 

“ Wait and see,” was the reply. 

Chumbley was silent for a few minutes, drawing in long breaths of 


158 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


air. Then, addressing his captors, who seemed to him to be steadily 
rowing on : 

“ I say,” he exclaimed, “ can I have this rag off my eyes ? ” 

“No.” 

Another pause, during which the prisoner listened to the pleasant 
ripple of the water against the boat. 

“I say,” from Chumbley. 

“ Yes.” 

“ I can’t fight now, or else I would.” 

There was a low laugh, which seemed to come from a dozen throats, 
and the same deep voice replied : 

“ My lord is a giant in strength, but we have him fast.” 

“ Then set me up, so that I can sit comfortably, or I shan’t be worth 
a Chinese dragon dollar if you want me for sale.” 

There was another low laugh, as if the Malay captors were amused ; 
and then, in obedience to a w'hispered order, the prisoner was lifted and 
placed in a more comfortable position, but not without some effort and 
grunting on the part of the men w'ho essayed to move him, the boat 
rocking about ominously the while. 

“That’s better,” said the prisoner. “ Hah, I can get on now ! Here 
I say, old chap, whoever you are, put your hand in my breast.” 

“Does my lord wish me to promise that we will not slay him ? ” said 
the deep-voiced Malay. 

“Bosh! No!” cried Chumbley. “In my breast-pocket. That’s 
right. Now take out the cigar-case. Not the pocket-book. The cigar- 
case. That’s it! Now open it and take out a cigar. Put it in my 
mouth. Have one ? ” 

“ My lord’s servant does not smoke when he lias work to do,” replied 
the Malay. 

“All right, then, I have none,” said Chumbley, coolly. “Put the 
end in my mouth, and give me a light. There’s a match-box in my 
vest.” 

There was a low laugh once more in the fore-part of the boat ; but 
the prisoner was too intent upon feeling the hand thrust into his breast, 
his cigar-case opened and snapped again, the case returned, the roll of 
tobacco placed in his lips, and then the light struck and held con- 
venient for him to draw. 

“ Hah ! ” he said to himself, “ it’s wmuderful what comfort there is 
in a cigar at a time like this ! How I do pity the poor little women 
who are not allowed to smoke ! ” 

He ■ said a few words to the Malays, but they were very quiet and 
reticent; and feeling that it was of no further use to talk to them in 
their own tongue, which was a trouble to him, he began to think in 
English, which, if not of much comfort, was at all events an occupation 
for the time being. 

“This is a rum set out,” ho thought, as he settled himself as com- 
fortably as he could, and smoked awmy. “ An hour or so ago I was at 
an English evening-party, held for coolness upon a lawn. Now I am 
here in a boat ; but where the dickens here is I don’t know. 

“ But what does it mean ? I’m not of the slightest use to anybody • 


A FLOATING CAPTIVITY. 


159 


and they are not doing it for revenge, because I haven’t made any 
enemies. Lot me see, though — have I ? ” 

lie paused thoughtfully for a few minutes. 

“ No — no, I can’t think of anybody except Miss Helen, for rejecting 
her tender glances. Let’s see, what did Byron or some other chap say 
about there being no what-you-may-call-it so dangerous as a woman 
scorned? Can’t recollect quotations — never could. But that’s all 
nonsense. Helen Perowne wouldn’t want to have me carried off like 
this. 

“ That’s it,” he said, half aloud this time, and after a thoughtful 
pause. “It’s ransom, that’s what it is. The noodles think because I 
am an English otficer, and flash about in scarlet and gold, that I must 
be very rich. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha ! ” 

Chumbley indulged himself with a long and rumbling chuckle. 

“ They’ll be preciously disappointed on finding out I’ve none, and if 
they expect to get it out of the British Government they’ll find that 
the payment will be made in rifle balls, unless some very urgent appeals 
are made in Parliament respecting the risk, when the question will 
arise, what will the noble, the British Government, as represented by 
its Secretary for the time being, think that my great carcass is 
worth.” 

Chumbley had sat there for a considerable time smoking and listen- 
ing, for he had suddenly awakened to the fact that there was another 
boat hard by, with whose occupants his captors conversed in a low 
voice. 

Then suddenly ho heard a familiar voice speaking fiercely in the 
Malayan tongue. 

Chumbley hesitated for a moment to make sure, and then shouted : 

“ Why, Hilton, old man, are you there ? ” 

“ Chumbley ! Here ! Help ! ” cried Hilton. “ Help, man, help ! ” 

“ Bring it here then,” said Chumbley, coolly. 

“ I cannot. I am a prisoner : seized by Malay scoundrels.” 

“ Same here, old man,” said Chumbley, puffing away at his cigar, 
the incandescent part of which was getting dangerously near his nose. 
“ Pleasant finish to the Perowne isn’t it?” 

Here there was a fierce adjuration from the Malays in the other boat, 
wffiich Hilton obeyed to the extent of speaking in a lower tone. 

“ What is to be done ? ” he said, “ I’d come and help you, but I’m 
bound hand and foot.” 

“ So am I, old man,” replied Chumbley, coolly. “ Tighter than you 
are, I’ll swear.” 

“But what is to be done ? ” said Hilton again. 

“ Goodness knows. Nothing, I should say. Have a cigar ? ” 

“Chumbley!” cried Hilton, passionately, “is this a time for 
joking, when at any moment our lives may be taken I Be sensible if 
you can.” 

I thought that was being sensible or philosophical if you like it 
better, old man. I don’t see that it’s of any use to fret so long as they 
don’t kill us. It will be a change from pipe-clay and parade ; and 
judging from what I saw between you and someone else in a certain 

11 ’ 


160 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


quarter to-day, I should have thought that ycu would have been glad 
of a holiday.” 

“Holiday, with a hris at our throats,” cried Hilton, passionately. 

“ Bah ! they won’t kill us ! ” said Chumbley. 

“I tell you that is what the scoundrels mean !” replied Hilton. 
“ Not that it matters much,” he added, gloomil}'. 

“ Oh, doesn’t it ! ” said Chumbley, “ but it docs, a good deal. I don’t 
know that we should make much fuss — soldiers can’t; but I know of 
plenty of people who would cry their eyes out about me.” 

“ If the English rajahs,” said a voice, that seemed to the two young 
men in their bandaged condition to come out of the darkness, and to 
speak haltingly, as if the utterer were not quite sure of the language 
in which he spoke — “ If the English rajahs will be patient, and not 
try to escape, no harm shall be done to them.” 

“ There,” said Chumbley, “ do you hear that, old man ! Better have 
a cigar.” _ 

“ Kubbish ! ” cried Hilton, angrily. 

“Not a bit of it, old man,” said Chumbley; “they are some of old 
Perowne’s best, and I have just finished one, and am going to have 
another. Here ! hi ! my lord the Malay chief. Maharajah, Muntri, 
Tumongong, or whatever you are, stop the boat, and give my friend a 
cigar. Load us both and fire us, old chap, and then we can go off 
com fortably.” 

There was no cessation in the rowing ; but as Chumbley sat back 
there he felt his request attended to, the smoked-out cigar being taken 
from his lips and thrown into the water, where it fell with a loud hiss, 
the case taken from his breast, opened, and then it seemed that the 
boats were drawn together, and a cigar was passed to Hilton. 

“ Got it, old man ? ” said Chumbley, sucking at his own, and biting 
off the end. 

“ Yes,” said Hilton gruffly, as if he were resenting the attentions of 
his captors. 

Then came the sharp sound of a striking match ; and though Chumbley 
tried hard, he found that his eyes were too well bandaged for him to 
catch even a gleam of the light, so he contented himself with drawing 
at his cigar, after which there was the loud hiss of the match thrown 
into the w’ater, and the boats were once more urged onward at a goodly 
speed. 

A little conversation was kept up ; but over their cigars the two 
prisoners seemed to grow thoughtful, and at last there was a pause, 
which Chumbley broke at last with the question : 

“ I say, old chap, don’t you think this means ransom ? ” 

There was no reply, and the deep-voiced Malay said, in his own 
tongue : 

“ The other boat is far behind.” 

It must have been towards morning that a few words were uttered 
in Chumbley’s boat ; there seemed to him, as he immediately became on 
the qui vive, to be a quickening of the rower’s strokes, the rustling of 
bushes, some twigs of one of which brushed his arm, and then they 
ascended, as far as he could jiidge, a narrow stream for a short dis- 


A BIRD IN A CAGE. 


IGl 


tance, for the oars kept striking bushes or reeds on either side ; and 
now the boat that held Hilton had evidently come np close behind, 

“ They mean to hide us away well, at all events,” thought Chiimbley. 
“ Now I wonder whether we have come up the stream or down.” 

Ho had hardly given life to that query, when a gentle cheek, as if 
the bows of the boat had run into mud, told that the shore, was reached. 

A few rapid orders succeeded, and it seemed to Chumbley that now 
they were about to land he 'would have his cramped legs unbound; but 
no. The next minute he was seized by four men, lifted out, and laid 
upon the soft mossy ground. 

“ You there, Hilton ? ” he said, as he lay upon his side as helpless as 
a newly-landed fish. 

“ Yes, I am here,” -w’as the reply. 

“ The English rajahs can talk as they like,” said the deep-voiced 
Malay. “ No one can hear them now.” 

“Humph! Thanks for the great concession,” growled Chumbley; 
and he was about to take advantage of the permission, when he felt 
himself again lifted, and laid this time in a kind of hammock that 
seemed to be slung upon poles, and then for a couple of hours at least, 
he and Hilton, who was in a similar conveyance behind, were borne 
along some narrow pathway of the jungle, the leaves, and strands, and 
thin verdant canes brushing against them constantly, and sweeping 
their faces at times when they were halted for the bearers to bo 
changed. 

“ Well,” said Chumbley, chuckling softly, “I hope they are enjoy- 
ing themselves with their job over me. They’ll declare that they have 
had the honour of carrying a very gi’eat man.” 

A final halt at last, when fresh voices were heard. The hammocks 
were set down upon what seemed to be a framework ; then they were 
lifted, tilted very much at one end, as if a flight of steps wore being 
ascended, and at last the prisoners felt themselves to be landed upon 
what felt like a bamboo floor. 

Next they were lifted out, carried a few steps, and laid upon soft 
matting ; there was the pad, pad— pad, pad of shoeless feet over the 
floor, and all was perfectly still. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

A BIRD IN A CAGE. 

Helen Perowne’s horror upon finding herself borne helplessly away 
was so great that she swooned, remaining insensible for some very con- 
siderable time, and when she did recover herself it was only to faint 
again and again, becoming afterwards so thoroughly prostrate that she 
took no note of either time or the direction in u’hich she was being 
taken. 

Hours must have elapsed before, in the total darkness caused by the 
stifling veil thrown over her head, she found that she was being carried 


162 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


in some kind of litter along a forest path, whose leaves and vines 
brushed her as she passed. 

This seemed to last a long time, and to be very unreal and dreamy. 
In fact, more than once she felt that she must be in some terribly 
troubled dream, out of which she kept awaking to the reality of her 
position and calling for help. 

It w'as in vain she knew, for her voice seemed to return upon her ; 
and at last, wearied out and exhausted, she lay there passive, thinking 
of the past, and wondering what her future was to be. 

She was too much prostrated to be able to think with clearness ; but 
her thoughts kept turning to her career since she left England, and the 
dark, threatening face of Murad was constantly before her eyes. That 
he was connected with this outrage she felt no doubt, and as she 
thought of her weak vanity and the strait to which it had brought her, 
the tears filled her eyes and trickled slowly down her cheeks. 

Then other faces rose before her in the darkness, as if upbraiding her 
for what she had done. She saw the Eev. Arthur Kosebury, calm, 
patient, and uncomplaining, satisfied if she only gave him a look or 
word ; Chumbley, her very slave at first, but then a rebel, ready to look 
at her mockingly, as if laughing at his broken chain ; Hilton, devoted 
and tender, but exacting, as if he doubted her truth; Murad, again 
fierce and lurid in his love, so that she shuddered as she saw his dark 
eyes and white teeth ; a dozen others with whom she had trifled ; and 
lastly, the quiet, firm face of Neil Harley, half laughing, half angry 
with her, but full of determination, as if he were constantly telling her 
that he was but waiting till she had grown wiser, for she would yet be his. 

As these faces seemed to rise before her out of the thick darkness, it 
was as though she were haunted, and it was in a wild, passionate way 
that she seemed in her dreamy state to be defying them, bidding them 
go — all but one, whose power was too great even for her angry words to 
repel. No : Neil Harley merely mocked and laughed, and seemed to 
say, ‘ ‘ I can wait ; I shall appeal no more, for some day I know, as I 
have often said, I shall have you humbled, a suppliant at my feet, 
begging me to take you, to protect you, to make you mine. Till then, 
I can wait ! ” 

It was all darkness again, and these words but a fancy of her brain ; 
but how real it all seemed — so real that Helen shuddered as she wept. 

“I hate him — I detest him! ’’she panted. “I would sooner die 
than humble myself as he has said—sooner become the wife of this 
Indian prince, of Hilton, or of anyone who pleaded for my love. Sup- 
plicate ! And to him 1 What madness ! Why do I think such 
things? Is my brain reeling ? Are my senses leaving mo ? Heaven 
help me I What shall I do ? ” 

The heat was intense, and the prisoner could hardly breathe, so 
closely was she veiled ; and once more she sank into a dreamy swoon, 
in w'hich the realities of her condition were so commingled with fancy 
that she could not separate them, and her efforts to master her reason 
were growing vain,^ when she was roused by what she doubted to be 
real at first, but which proved to be the gruff voices of men speaking by 
her litter-side. 


A BIRD IN A CAGE. 


163 


Soon after, too, she found that she was being carried'up a ladder, and 
rousing herself, she made a feeble effort to get free ; but so weak was 
her struggle, that she was lifted by one man, carried up the steps, and 
laid upon a couch. 

There was a few moments’ pause then, and she heard her late com- 
panions depart. Then she felt busy hands about her, their touch 
making her shriek with horror ; but as the stifling veil was removed 
she found that it was nearly daylight, and her relief was great as she 
saw that she was surrounded by women. 

She was too much exhausted to speak ; but she found strength 
enough to join her hands together in a mute appeal for help ; and 
one of the women bent over her, and proceeded to smooth back her 
dark and tangled hair. 

“ Give me water ! ” she panted, hoarsely. “ Water I ” but her words 
were not understood, and it was not until she had made signs, pointing 
to her mouth, that those in attendance brought her a cup of the 
refreshing fluid. 

Whether it was drugged or not she never knew, but directly after 
she sank into a sleep that was deep enough to resemble a stupor, though 
most probably this was the effect of her utter weakness and prostration, 
her mental agony and excitement having been extreme. From this 
sleep she did not awaken for many hours, when, upon unclosing her 
eyes, she found that a couple of young Malay girls were watching her, 
evidently waiting for her to awaken, for no sooner had Helen unclosed 
her eyes than they proceeded to attend to her toilet, bringing water, 
brushes, and other necessaries, bathing her face, and then laughingly 
dressing her hair, chattering away to each other the while. 

Helen plied them well with questions, but they only shook their 
heads ; and feeling that it would be of no avail to resist, she submitted 
quietly to their attentions, letting them arrange her hair, which they 
did according to their own national tastes, and afterwards began to 
solicit her to partake of food. 

As this last was placed before her, Helen shook her head again and 
again ; but the girls became so urgent with their pressure that she at 
last essayed to partake of the breakfast ; but after a few mouthfuls, 
each of which seemed as if it would choke her, she broke- down, 
and crouched there, humbled and worn out with anxiety, sobbing aloud 
as if her very heart would break. 

She felt that in a few short hours all had been changed. The last 
night she was Helen Perowne, whose lightest word seemed at the 
station to be obeyed as if it were law, and at whoso look a score 
of people were ready to exert themselves to obey her wishes would she 
but indicate them to those who acted as if they were her slaves. To- 
day she was filled with a shrinking horror, for the terrible suspicion 
was ever gaining ground, and she shuddered in her misery as she 
thought of what her fate might be. 

The hours went slowly on, but her thoughts were rapid. Her 
suspicions gathered strength, but her mental and bodily forces appeared 
to slumbering, and it was only by a strong effort of will that she 
was able to keep up some semblance of ^ pride, for she felt that her 


164 


ONE IVIAID’S MISCHIEF. 


first display of weakness had lo'wered her terribly in her attendants* 
eyes. 

By degrees she grew more composed, and in these calmer moments 
she began thinking of Gray Stuart, and wished for the protection of 
her company, us she thought more and more of the calm, self- 
assured manner of her school companion, and wondered what she was 
doing now. 

Helen could see that she was in a handsomely-decorated room, whoso 
bamboo-barred window looked out upon waving palms and fiowering 
trees. The door was hung with a rich silk curtain, and on two sides 
were low couches or divans, spread with Indian rugs, several of which 
were lying on the smooth bamboo floor. 

There was little of ornament in the room, but the hangings and rugs 
looked rich, and Helen’s suspicion grew rapidly sti'onger as her eyes 
wandered here and there, and she thought of whoso all these things 
must be. 

Suddenly a slight rustle of the silken hangings caught her ear, and 
turning her eye.s in the direction, she drew a breath of relief as 
she saw that it was caused by a little knot of Malay women, who were 
eagerly scanning her Avith their great dark eyes, and evidently regarding 
her as a curiosity. 

These departed and others came — dark-faced, scowling women, in 
their gay sarongs — whispering to each other, and passing comments on 
the stranger ; while Helen sat there, trying hard to keep up her stately 
air and to let these insolent gazers know that though a prisoner she 
was an English lady, and their superior still. 

Twice over a couple of these visitors addressed some remark to the 
girls, who seined to have been placed there as attendants. What 
these remarks Avere Helen could not tell, but they dreAV forth angry 
expostulations from the girls, who at once went and drew the great 
curtain, and seemed to forbid further intrusion. 

This Avas evidently the case, for saving that her two attendants 
remained in the room, Helen was undisturbed ; and feeling someAvhat 
recovered, she made an effort to Avin her companions to her side, 
beginning by questioning them in as friendly a manner as she could 
assume, but without effect ; for though it was evident that one of 
them understood her English words mingled with such Malay as the 
prisoner could recollect, the girl made no reply, only looked at her 
with indifferent eyes, and kept on shaking her head to every question 
as to why the speaker had been seized and was forcibly detained. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

Helen’s tiuewomen. 

Helen Perowne’s great horror in her situation of captive was the 
coming night. The day had been more bearable, as in the comparative 
coolness of the shaded room with its oj?en windows she had felt the 


HELEN’S TIREWOMEN, 


. 1G5 


influence of the quietude and calm of the forest at which she gazed. 
Her mind was tortured by surmises and wonder as to w.hether her 
friends would not soon arrive to rescue her, while at every sound she 
started in fear of seeing her suspicion fully verified; but still she had 
bravely grown more composed and rested. She was among women, 
watched by women, and sooner or later she felt sure that someone from 
the station would arrive in pursuit. 

For it was monstrous to suppose that such a crime as the seizure of 
an English lady would be allowed to pass without swift retribution. 

This idea comforted her, and in her more hopeful moments she 
wondered who would first come to her aid — whether it would bo 
Mr. Harley, Hilton, or her father. One of them, well backed by 
the soldiers, she told herself, would certainly bo there ere long ; but 
darkness began to fall. Nobody had been to her help, and shivering 
with dread, she watched the darkening of the shadows amongst the 
broad palm leaves, and alternated this with shuddering glances at the 
door, whose curtain now began to look black and funereal, and added 
to her dread. 

Just at dark a couple of women entered, bearing various dishes for 
her evening meal ; but the sight of food was repugnant to her, and the 
wine she dared not taste. 

Her two attendants w'ere, however, less scrupulous, and they ate 
and drank heartily, even to finishing the luscious fruit, of which there 
was a large dish, and whose juice would have been most welcome 
to Helen’s parched and fevered lips. 

At last, though, the remains of the meal were taken away ; and after 
chatting together for some time by the open window, through which 
the moon shone, and, from where Helen sat, turning the two girls into 
weird-iooking silhouettes, they yawned, spoke sleepily, and ended by 
pointing to the couch the prisoner was to occupy, throwing themselves 
upon another, and apparently soon falling into a heavy sleep. 

Helen lay resting upon her elbow, watching the darkened portion of 
the great room where her companions lay, and then letting her eyes 
rest upon the dimly-seen draped door, whose curtain seemed more than 
once to move, as if being drawn aside. 

Watching this till her eyes felt strained, and seeing nothing more, 
she turned her gaze to the barred window, through which the last raj’s 
of the moon were streaming previous to its disappearing behind the 
dense belt of forest trees. Lower it sank and lower, till the room was 
in total darkness; and at last, moved by the desire to tiy and escape 
from her captivity, Helen rose W’ith her heart throbbing violently, to 
try in a fearsome, hopeless way whether she could not get out of the 
room, having afterwards some ill-defined idea in her mind that she 
might, if once clear of the prison where she then was, find her w'ay to 
some native campong, whose inhabitants would give her shelter, and 
perhaps take her down the river in their boat to where more certain 
help might be secured. 

It took some time to make up her mind to move, but when she had 
shaken off her dread, and risen softly to her feet, hardly had she gone 
a yard, w'hen one of the bamboos forming the floor gave a loud creak, 


166 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


and almost before she could realize the fact, the two girls had sprung 
up, seized her arms, and tenderly but firmly forced her back to her 
couch. 

Helen lay there panting with indignation at the treatment she was 
receiving, but trying to contain herself, for she felt that any attempt 
at force would only be to her own injury, and that, if she were to 
escape, it must be by some subtle turn. So she lay there perfectly 
still for quite an hour before making any further attempt to reach the 
door, this time with as light a step as she could assume. 

But though the moment before her companions seemed to be sleeping 
heavily, her sliglitest movement made them start up ; and after several 
attempts to escape their watchfulness, one of them took her hand, 
grasped it firmly, and lay down to sleep by her side. 

How that long, stifling night passed Helen Perowne could never 
afterwards tell ; but towards morning she fell into a broken, troubled 
sleep, from which she awoke to find that the sun was very high, and 
that the two Malay girls were waiting to act as her tirewomen once 
again. 

She still felt too weak to offer resistance to their acts, and she 
sat up and allowed them to bathe her face with a delicately-tinted, 
sweet-scented water, which, with a good deal of merry laughter, they 
liberally applied. It was cool and refreshing to her fevered cheeks and 
hands; and seeing that she liked it they kept up the bathing for some 
little time, chattering to her the while in their own language, which 
they supplemented now and then with a few words of English. 

When this was over at last, and she had dried hemelf with the per- 
fumed towels they brought, Helen started on finding that a portion of 
her own clothing had been removed, and that the Malay girls had sub- 
stituted a couple of gay silken sarongs and a filmy scarf. 

She appealed to them to return her own dress, but they only laughed 
and began to praise the gay colour of the sarongs, playfully throwing 
them round her to show how well they looked, and then clapping their 
hands and uttering cries indicative of their admiration of the effect. 

Still Helen refused to accept the change, and after trying angry re- 
monstrance, one of the girls ran out, to return directly with a couple of 
stern-looking, richly-dressed Malay women, who frowningly threatened 
the miserable girl with the indignity of force. 

Still she refused ; and clapping her hands, the elder of the two 
women opened the door for the admission of half a dozen slaves, when, 
feeling that resistance was vain, Helen signed that she would submit, 
and with drooping head and throbbing brow allowed her two attend- 
ants to drape her as they wished. 

This over, breakfast was placed before her, and exhausted nature 
forced her to partake with a better appetite. 

“ I shall need my strength,” she said to herself ; and she ate and 
drank, but started at every movement outside the room as she waited 
the coming of those who would set her free. 

“ Hilton, in spite of what has passed, will not rest until he has found 
me — poor fellow ! ” 

She said these last two words with a mingling of contempt and pity 


ANOTHER PRISONER. 


167 


in her voice ; though had he presented himself then, she vrould have 
thrown herself gladly in his arms. 

But there was no token of approaching relief. The voices of many 
women could be heard coming and going about what was apparently a 
large native house ; and the prisoner could not avoid a shudder as 
from time to time she thought of who must be the owner of the place. 

The morning w’as giving way to the heats of noon, and languid and 
heart-sick Helen was lying back upon one of the couches, thinking of 
the happy days of the past, and trying to piece together the broken, in- 
coherent facts connected with her seizure, and wondering whether 
Murad were the real cause, when the two Malay girls W’ho had left her 
for a few moments returned, bearing a handful of wreaths of a beauti- 
fully fresh white jasmine,’which they insisted upon placing in her thick, 
dark hair. 

Helen resisted this trifling for a time, but despair had tamed her 
spirit ; and after a few feeble attempts to stay her persecutors, she sat 
like a statue, asking herself, with her eyes fixed upon the gay sarong 
she wore, whether this was the Helen of the past — and what was to be 
the end. 

The two girls placed the lovely white flowers in her hair, laughing 
with delight, and clapping their hands as they drew back to gaze at 
their work ; after which one of them went off to fetch a common hand- 
glass of European make, and held it before her face that she might, as 
they said, “ see how beautiful they had made her now.” 

Helen was too sick of heart and weary to do more than cast a cursory 
glance at the glass ; but this was followed by another, and then she 
uttered an anguished cry, shrinking back and cowering down as if with 
dread as she covered her face with her hands. 

Fair Helen was fair no longer. Her face was as swarthy as that of 
the darkest Malay. 


CHAPTER XLIV, 

ANOTUER PRISONER. 

The awakening of the Reverend Arthur Rosebury was not very much 
unlike that of the other prisoners. He too seemed to have been carried 
a long distance blindfolded, both in boat and litter; and it all 
appeared like a continuation of the dream in which he had been 
plunged since he first met Helen Perowne. 

The hours he had spent in her company ; the giving up of his little 
English home; his journey abroad; and his Eastern life had all 
seemed dreamlike and strange ; and it was quite, to his mind, in keeping 
therewith, that he should have been seized, blindfolded, and carried off 
by slaves for some reason or another ; probably, he argued, because 
a rival was jealous of the favour in which he stood with Helen, who 
had only that night appointed him her special personal attendant. 

It was all quite consistent with Eastern life and romance, and did 


168 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


not strike him as being at all peculiar, for the tact remains that, ■while 
the Reverend Arthur Roseburj was exceedingly clever as a student, 
and quite a master in his own particular subjects, he was weak as 
water in worldly matters; and, as his sister too well knew, in many 
things little better than a child. Add to this that the Reverend Arthur 
wnis, for the first time in his life, and at middle age, hopelessly infa- 
tuated with Helen, and it is not surprising that his weakness was 
extreme. 

ItW'as all, then, to him a matter of no wonderment, and he would 
have taken his position coolly enough had he been satisfied that Helen 
was not in danger. But of this he could not feel assured ; and he was 
troubled in his dull, mild -way accordingly. For love blinded him 
effectually to all Helen’s failings. She was beautiful, and she had 
looked kindly, almost lovingly upon him, more than once, and those 
tender looks redeemed all else. She flirted, she coquetted with others ; 
she treated him with mai’ked indifference and contempt ; but she had 
made him love her, and he was one of those who. without reward, 
w^ould go on patiently loving until the end. 

He was a good deal troubled, then, in his own mind about Helen’s 
fate, for he had seen that slie was, like him, seized; but in the con- 
fusion that followed, what afterwards took place he could not tell. 

When he was able to think a little more clearly, lie began to ask 
himself what he should do to help his companion in distress ; and of 
course, ignorant of the fact that he might prove in his humble way 
a greater safeguard than either of her other admirers, there he stuck 
fast. AVhat was he to do to help Helen ? 

No answer came to this question, so there he paused, meditating 
hour after hour, until he found himself unbound, and free to gaze about 
him in a pleasant-looking room, whose window opened upon a fairly- 
kept garden, full of such a profusion of strange and beautiful plants, 
shining in the heavy morning dew, that, as the Reverend Arthur Rose- 
bury rested his forehead against the bamboo bars, and looked out, ho 
forgot his present troubles in the glories of a rich botanic feast. 

He was interrupted by a hand touching him on the shoulder ; and 
turning, ho found a couple of tall, well-armed Malays standing at his 
side, one of whom pointed to a breakfast arranged upon a clean mat 
upon the floor, and signed to him that he should eat. 

The Reverend Arthur sighed, paused, and asked where was Miss 
Perowne ; receiving for answer a shake of the head, and a fresh inti- 
mation that he should eat. 

This, after a moment’s hesitation, ho sat down and began to do, 
evidently in a very abstracted mood. 

At the end of a minute he rose, beckoned to one of his guards, led 
him to the window, and pointing out through the open bars to a very 
beautiful form of convolvulus, he took out his penknife, opened it, 
and placed it in the Malay’s hand, signing to him that he should go 
out and cut one of the long twining strands. 

The man looked at him in a puzzled manner for a few moments, 
but ended by comprehending; and after saying a few words to his 
companion, he went out and came round to the window where the 


ANOTHER PRISONER, 


1G9 


Reverend Arthur was watching, and ready to point to the plant, a 
portion of which the Malay cut, and also a spray of a large jasmine, 
and brought in. 

The prisoner took the plants and his knife, and sat down erosslegged 
to his breakfast, which became a prolonged meal, full of enjoyment ; 
for between every two mouthfuls there was a long pause, and sections 
had to be made of the flow’ers and seed vessels, while notes were made 
in the notebook the chaplain always carried in his breast-pocket. 

Altogether that was a very pleasant meal ; and the two Malay guards 
Stared to see how calm and contented their prisoner seemed to be. 

Then came a period of depression, during which the chaplain ques- 
tioned the Malays, making use of all the words that he had studied up 
during the voyage and since his stay : but they either could not or 
would not give him any information respecting the object of his inquiry ; 
and he walked dreamily to the window, and stood gazing out once 
more. 

Whatever might be his troubles or perplexities, it was impossible for 
the Reverend Arthur Rosebury to gaze at the beauties of nature in a 
botanical form without forgetting the perturbations of his spirit ; and 
consequently he had not been looking out at the wonderful collection of 
plants, for the most part strange to him, many minutes, before he was 
signing to the Malay guard to cut him a fresh specimen. 

This the man readily did; and with intervals for meals and fits of 
despondency at not being able to help Helen Perowne, the Reverend 
Arthur Rosebury passed his first day in prison. 

The next w'as very similar, for he was treated with the greatest of 
kindness and consideration, except that he could obtain no information 
whatever respecting his detention or his fellow-captive. 

On the third day, upon signifying a desire to have another specimen 
of the plants in the garden, the guard handed to him one of the little 
woven caps worn by the Malays, signed to him to put it on as he had 
not his own hat, led him out through a doorway into the garden, and 
then said, in fair English : 

“You may walk and pick flowers. If vou run away you will be 
killed.” 

The chaplain stared at the man, and asked him some other questions, 
but the Malay guard pointed to the flowers, waved his hand over the 
garden as if to say, “ You are free to walk here and seating himself 
upon a stump, ho took out his betel-box, extracted a sirih leaf, smeared 
it with coral-lime mixed into a cream, rolled a piece of nut therein, 
and placing the preparation in his mouth, he began to chew it calmly 
without seeming to heed his prisoner, though he "was watchfully 
observant of him the wliole time. 

Helen Perowne was entirely forgotten for the space of three hours, 
during which the chaplain dreamily revelled in the beauties of the 
wonderful flowers of that Eastern land. He had no thought outside 
the present, and in a kind of ecstasy he wandered here and^ there till, 
truth to tell, he began to feel hungry, and hunger made him look up 
at the long, low, palm-thatched building that was his prison. 

Hunger made him also, for some occult reason, begin to think of 


170 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF, 


Helen, and he found liimself -wondering whether she was confined any- 
where near him, and if so, could he make known his presence by any 
means. 

Just then, seeing him gazing hard at the house, the Malay rose from 
his seat, where he had remained patiently the whole time, and pointing 
to the open door, the chaplain went in laden with flowers sufficient to 
occupy him in making scientific notes for the rest of the day. 


CHAPTER XL7. 

CUUMBLEy’s COOLNESS. 

“ I SAY, this is‘a rum set-out, Bertie,” drawled Chumbley. “ I suppose 
you are there ?” 

“ Yes ; lam here, or there, as you choose to call it,” replied Hilton, 
rather bitterly, for his bonds gave him no little pain. 

“ I will loosen the rajahs now,” said the voice that Chumbley had 
heard all through his unpleasant adventure. 

Busy hands were now about them, and a knife was used to cut them 
free ; but their limbs were so cramped by the long confinement, and so 
tightly bound, that they could hardly move. 

Then the handkerchiefs were removed from their eyes, and they lay 
back on the soft matting gazing about them, the subdued light of the 
large room in which they found themselves being very grateful to their 
dazzled eyes. 

The man who had set them free from the cords was a stern-looking, 
muscular Malay in plain cotton jacket and sarong, in whose folds were 
stuck a couple of formidable-looking krises ; and the place in which 
the prisoners’ eyes struggled with the light was a tolerably large room 
floored with split bamboo, the -walls being for the most part a kind of 
basket-work of cane, partially covered with native woven hangings, 
while the floor was pretty well hidden by Persian and Turkish rugs. 

Everything looked cool and comfortable ; and, in spite of the absence 
of tables and chairs, there was a good deal of elegance in the way in 
which various ornaments of bronze and china were arranged about the 
apartment. Here and there, too, were objects of European manufacture, 
principally in glass, Italian imitations of old Venice being principally 
chosen. 

Naturally enough the first glances of the prisoners were aimed at the 
windows, of which there were two, and at the door; but they were 
evidently strongly made, and though the bars of the windows were but 
wood, they were stout bamboos externally almost as hard to cut as 
flint. 

The Malay saw their looks ; and making a sign to them, he crossed 
to the door and threw it open, admitting with the rays of the morning 
sun the glinting of the spear-heads of half a dozen stout Malay guards. 

Closing the door, he beckoned to the prisoners to come to the 
windows. 


CHUMBLEY’S COOLNESS. 


171 


^ Hilton essayed to rise, but sank back upon his mats with an ejacula- 
tion indicative of pain, for the attempt was full of suffering to his 
swollen limbs. 

_ Chumbley, though in pain, was more successful, or more full of for- 
titude, for he struggled to his feet, and heavily tottered across the 
bamboos and mats to the window, which w^as covered with a beauti- 
fully-scented creeper, and through which a pleasant prospect was 
visible of undulating woodland and dense jungle. 

“Quite fresh to me,” muttered Chumbley. “ I wonder where we 
are ?” 

Not till he had had this glance round did he pay any heed to the 
Malay, who was pointing to a group below each window of three well- 
armed men. 

“They are to kill you if you try to go,” he said, quietly ; and then, 
with a meaning smile, he left the room, fastening the door with some 
kind of bar. 

“This is atrocious !” cried Hilton, as he bit his lip, and pressed his 
swollen wrists ; while Chumbley dropped at full length upon the mats, 
turned upon his back, and began to rub his legs. 

“ A — bom — i — na — ble,” he drawled. 

“That scoundrel Murad is at the bottom of it. I’ll swear,” cried 
Hilton. “ Hang the fellow ! I could shoot him like a dog.” 

“ You should have hung him or shot him before he carried out this 
game,” said Chumbley, rubbing away very softly, and evidently feeling 
a good deal of satisfaction as his reward. 

“ It is to get me out of the way while he resumes his attentions to 
— you know,” he cried, peevishly ; “ but he might have saved himself 
the trouble, for I’ve done.” 

“He seems to have had an idea of going it wholesale,” drawled 
Chumbley, “or else he wouldn’t have brought me.” 

“ What shall we do now ?" said Hilton, altering his position, for the 
numbing sensation was passing off. 

“ As soon as ever I’ve done rubbing my legs,” said Chumbley, “ I’m 
going to have another cigar ; and then if they don’t bring us breakfast 
I shall have a nap, for I feel as if it would do Mr. Chumbley good.” 

“ Chumbley, I haven’t patience with you !” cried Hilton. 

“Not when you have pins and needles in your legs, dear boy; but 
have a weed to soothe you, and then you can philosophize over our 
trouble. Say, old chap.” 

“What?” 

“No parade this morning — no drill. No anything to do at all but 
lie here and smoke. Hah ! this is a nice one. Look out, old man. 
Catch !” 

To Hilton’s annoyance his friend coolly took a cigar from his case, 
struck a light, and having ignited the end of his roll of tobacco-leaf, 
he pitched case and match-box to his friend, then lay back and 
smoked. 

For a few minutes Hilton gazed at him in an angry, disgusted 
ma nner; but the process of smoking looked so calming in its effects 
upon his friend, that he submitted to the desire to imitate him, and 


172 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


proceeded to light a cigar himself ; hut before ho had been smoking 
many minutes, a regular hard breathing told him that Chumbley was 
dozing, and sure enough he was lying there, heedless of present trouble 
and that to come, his cigar tightly held between his teeth, and his 
breath coming and going, as he slept placidly and well. 

“I always thought Chumbley cool,” muttered Hilton in an annoyed 
way; “but he really is the coolest fellow I ever met. Why, that 
villain may kill us to-morrow — to-day for what I know. Oh, it’s 
monstrous! and all through that wretched, coquettish girl.” 

“I hate myself!” he said, after a few minutes’ pause. Why, he 
did not say, but he too lay back and indulged in his friend’s bad habit, 
feeling gradually calmer and more at rest, especially as the furtive rub 
he gave from time to time at one or other of the places where the 
bonds had been was mollifying in its effect. 

Chumbley was fast asleep, of that there could be no doubt, so 
Hilton determined that it was his duty to watch for both. He could 
not go to sleep at a time like this, so he began thinking about Helen, 
muttering angrily the while ; but by degrees his countenance 
softened, his eyes closed, his cigar fell from his lips, the infection of 
Chumbley’s despised readiness to sleep came over him, and, quite 
exhausted, he too lay breathing heavily, and jierfectly unconscious of 
the lapse of time. Naturally enough he dreamed of Helen and her 
careless coquettish treatment of his love, which was rapidly cooling 
down, like the lava after some violent eruption, and giving place to a 
hard and bitter anger at her heartless ways. 

As for Chumbley he was too weary to dream, but slept on as 
calmly as if he were in his own cot at the fort; perhaps more calmly, 
for the well-ventilated room was shaded by waving cocoa-palms and 
the branches of a great durian-tree, while the large leaves of banana 
kept the sun-rays from the glassless window. 

At intervals of about an hour the Malay came in, and stepping 
softly towards them, seemed to assure himself that they were both 
asleep, going out directly with a satisfied smile as he saw how 
calmly they were resting. 

“ They are brave men, these English,” he muttered. “They will 
do. It is right. They do not know but that this may be their last 
day on earth, and yet they sleep.” 

Mid-day had long passed before Chumbley awoke suddenly, as if 
influenced by the presence of the tall Malay who was standing by him. 

“ Hallo, old chap !” he drawled, “ have I been asleep ? I say, have 
I been asleep ?” he added, in the Malay tongue. 

“ Since morning, rajah, and it is now past midday,” replied the 
Malay, respectfully. 

“Here, hi! Hilton! Wake up, old man!” cried Chumbley; and 
his fellow-prisoner leaped up, looking vacantly before him for a 
moment or two, and then growing angry as ho realized where they 
were. 

The Malay retired at once, and a couple of fresh men entered, 
bringing brass basins with water, cloths, and English-made hair 
brushes, and soap. These the two officers gladly used, Chumbley 


CHUMBLEY’S COOLNESS. 


173 


tittering grunts of satisfaction as he indulged in a good wash, and 
ended by carefully adjusting his short crisp hair, 

“That’s better, lad,” he said. “One feels more like a human 
being now.” 

“ Yes,” replied Hilton, smiling. “ It is surprising what a degraded 
creature a man feels when he has not made acquaintance for some 
hours with soap and water.” 

“ Come, that’s more cheery, my noble. Why, I believe, old fellow, 
that this affair is doing you good ! ” 

“I suppose I am a little rested,” said Hilton, quietly. “ Take away 
those things,” he said, to the Malays, who both bowed respectfully 
and withdrew. 

“I say, Hilton,” said Chumbley, “ I suppose this really is Murad’s 
game, isn’t it ? ” 

“ No doubt. Of course it is ! ” 

“Well, he is doing the thing civilly. I wonder whether he treats 
all his prisoners like this? Hallo! w’hat’s this mean — an execution 
sheet or a tablecloth ? ” 

“ The latter,” said Hilton, quickly. 

“ And quite right too,” exclaimed Chumbley. “ I say, how hungi*y 
I do feel !” 

These last remarks were elicited by the fact that the tall Malay had 
returned, ushering in half a dozen more, who quickly spread a white 
tablecloth in the English fashion ; and to the surprise of the prisoners 
they were served with a capital breakfast, which included, among native 
luxuries, coffee, very good claret, roast and curried chickens, and fairly- 
made bread. 

“ Look here,” said Chumbley, who was staring ravenously at the 
preparations, ‘ ‘ if you have any suspicions about the food being poisoned, 
don’t say a word about it, old man, until I have fed.” 

“ Oh, absurd ! ” replied Hilton. “ Why should it be poisoned ? ” 

“ I don’t know, and I don’t want to know ! ” exclaimed Chumbley. 
“ Only let us leave all other discussion till we have discussed our break- 
fast ; ” and seating himself in the Malay fashion upon the floor, he at 
once set an example to his companion, that Hilton was fain to follow. 

“ As that fellow said somewhere, ‘ a child might play with me now,’ ” 
sighed Chumbley, and wiping his lips in token of having flnished, ho 
leaned back against the divan. “ Done ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Hilton, gloomily, “ I have done.” 

“ I wish you had dbne being glumpy,” said Chumbley. ‘ ‘ Why, 
this is quite a pleasant change. I. say, executioner,” he cried, in 
the Malay tongue, “I have emptied my case. Can wo have some 
cigars ? ” 

The tall Malay, who had been standing with folded arms, looking 
like a swarthy statue, bowed respectfully, and left the room, the men 
coming in directly to remove the remains of the breakfast; while their 
leader returned at the end of a few minutes with a box of cigars, a jar 
of tobacco, and a couple of large pipes, one of which, a kind of hookah, 
Chumbley at once appropriated, filled, and began to smoke. 

“ 1 say, Hilton, old man, failing the costume —which wants brushing, 


174 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


by the -way — I feel quite the rajah. Take it easy, lad. ^Tisn’t half 
bad for a change.” 

“Hang it, Chumbley,you -would make yourself contented anywhere !” 
cried Hilton, who, now that his hunger was appeased, began to grow 
angry once more. ‘ ‘ Put down that pipe, and let’s see if we cannot con- 
trive some means of getting away from here.” 

“Eh? ” 

“ I say put away that pipe, and let’s plan how to get away.” 

“ Not if I know it,” replied Chumbley. “ The tobacco is delicious, 
and I’m not going to spoil my digestion by putting myself in a fever 
directly after a meal.” 

“ But we must make some plans ! ” cried Hilton. 

“ Must we ? Well, by-and-by will do. I’m very comfortable ; and 
as long as a fellow is comfortable, what more can he want ? There, 
light up and do as I do. I don’t know that I want to escape at all if 
the cuisine is to be kept up to this mark.” 

‘ ‘ But we are prisoners ! ” 

“ So we are at the island, man alive. We couldn’t help being brought 
here ; but now we are here, we may as well make the best of it. What 
splendid tobacco ! Keal Latakie ! ” 

Hilton fretted and fumed ; and finding that he could not move his 
friend, he went to door and window, examined the walls, and looked up 
at the open roof ; but Chumbley did not move, he merely seemed to be 
studying their position in the coolest -v^ay. 

“Look here, sit down, old fellow,” he exclaimed at last, just as 
Hilton had worked himself into a heat, “ it doesn’t seem to me to 
be of any use to fret and fume. Have a little patience, and let’s 
see whether this has been done by our dark friend, or else what it 
does mean.” 

“How can a man have patience,” cried Hilton, “seized in this 
ruffianly way ! ” 

“ ’Twas rough certainly,” said Chumbley, slowly. 

“ Torn from his quarters ” 

“ To better ones, my dear old man. Let’s play fair. One doesn’t get 
such a breakfast as this at the fort.” 

“Dragged from his love ! ” cried Hilton, who did not seem to heed 
his companion’s remarks. 

“Well, that last’s all sentiment, old man,” drawled Chumbley. 
“ For my part I think it will do you good. I say — happy thought, 
Hilton — Helen Perowne’s at the bottom of this, and wanting to get rid 
of you, has had you carried away. Me too, for fear I should make the 
running in your absence.” 

“ Do you wish to quarrel, Chumbley ? ” cried Hilton. 

“ Not 1. You couldn’t quarrel with me. But joking apart, old man, 

I saw enough yesterday to know that you had got to the end of your 
tether, and that-- — ” 

“ And that what? ” cried Hilton, fiercely ; for Chumbley had halted 
in his speech. 

“ That she had pitched you over, same as she had a score of others 
before you.” 


CnUMSLEY’S COOLNESS. 


175 


“ Silence ! It is a falsehood — a calumny — a damned lie I How daro 
you say that ? ” 

“ Oh ! easy enough ! ” said Chumbley, without moving a muscle. 
“It’s just waggling one’s tongue a bit. IBully away, old man, I don’t 
mind ; and you’ll feel better when you’ve rid yourself of all that spleen.” 

“ As to Miss Perowne knowing of this ” 

“Oh, that’s absurd, of course!” cried Chumbley; “but she has 
pitched you over, old man, and you now belong to the ranks of the 
unblessed.” 

“ I cannot quarrel with you, Chumbley,” said Hilton, cooling down, 
“because I know you to be too good a fellow to slight; but will you 
talk sense ? ” 

“ Yes, dear boy, of course I will ; but I wish you’d try this tobacco. 
This is sense that I am going to say now. I feel sure that we have 
been kidnapped so that our new friends may get a nice little sum for us 
out of the British Government.” 

“ Well, it is likely,” said Hilton, whose anger had been of a fleeting 
nature. “ But if they do not get the ransom — what then ? ” 

“That’s an unpleasant emergency that it is not worth while to con- 
sider until w'e know that negotiations have failed. It is unpleasant, 
dear boy, because I suppose W'e should then get a taste of kris, applied 
in a dexterous manner peculiar to the M;xlays, through the hollow of 
the left shoulder. But that would only be a dernier ressoi't, and a 
thousand things might happen in the meantime. It will all come right 
in the end.” 

Seeing that Chumbley was determined to make the best of their 
position, Hilton gradually began to take somewhat of the same tone ; 
and agreeing with his friend that at present any attempt at escape 
would be folly, he partook heartily of the excellent second meal pro- 
vided for them, questioned their guard, but obtained no information 
w'hatever as to where they were and why they had been brought, and 
ended by seating himself by the open window and listening to the 
weird noises of the jungle as darkness fell. 

Feeling weary at last, Hilton sought his couch, and lay thinking once 
more of Helen, wondering where she was, but with less excitement 
than of old ; and somehow' the sweet, earnest face of Gray Stuart rose 
like a pleasant picture before him, and he fell asleep, thinking that 
if Helen, with her beauteous face, had only had the sweet disposition 
of her schoolfellow and companion, what a lovable woman she would 
have been. 

Chumbley was dropping off to sleep at the same time, and he too 
was thinking of Helen Perowne, and that nature was guilty of making 
a great mistake in sending such girls abroad upon the earth. 

“In fact,” said Chumbley, who was in a drowsy state of content 
with rest, good meals, wine, and coffee — “in fact, old fellow, I begin 
to think that women are a great mistake altogether, and I for one am 
perfectly cured.” 

Sleep spread her drowsy wings over his eyes at this point, and his 
heretical notions had no further play, for his slumber was dreamless, and 
he like his friend passed a calm and pleasant night. 

12 


176 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


They awoke early, and breakfasted in keeping with Iheir time of 
rising ; after which, finding themselves quite alone, and seeing that 
they were not watched, they had a good quiet investigation of the 
place, doing what Chumbley called “ a bit of engineering.” 

“ Don’t seem feasible at present,” said Chumbley at the end of the 
look round. 

“ Unless we could bribe the giiards,” replied Hilton. 

“Yes, it would only be throwing away energy just at present. 
Let’s bide a wee, as old Stuart would say. I say, old chap, talk about 
old Stuart, why don’t you marry his pretty little lassie ? ” 

“ Why don’t you keep that Solomon-like intellect of yours to bear 
on the subject in hand ? ” retorted Hilton. “ I’ve done with women.” 

“ So have I,” said Chumbley. “I’d turn monk if I were offered a 
nice cell with good shooting and fishing.” 

“ You’re a queer fish yourself. Chum,” said Hilton, laughing ; “but 
seriously, we must get away from here. It is perfectly absurd ! Kid- 
napped, and nothing else ! ” 

“Quite a romance,” replied Chumbley; “but never mind. We 
shall know what our ransom is to be to-night.” 

‘•I wonder whether Harley is taking steps to find us ? ” 

“ Sure to be, unless he thinks we are drowned,” replied Chumbley. 
“ There’s no knowing. I believe my hat went floating down the river.” 

“ I hope not,” said Hilton. “ If he thought that he.would not search 
for us.” 

“ Not till he heard about the ransom. I say, old fellow, I’m tired 
of smoking. I wonder whether they have a billiard table, or chess ? ” 

“ Pshaw ! ” 

“ Well, then, a pea-rifle to pot the birds.” 

“Very likely,” said Hilton, drily, as they sat by the open window, 
looking out at the soft shadows of the coming night. 

“I’d give something to know really why we are boxed up here,” said 
Chumbley, after a long silence. “It can’t be anything connected 
with the station, or I should be in a terrible fidget. It must be some- 
thing to do with us alone.” 

“ Yes,” replied Hilton ; “ but it is all darkness at present.” 

For the moment it was ; but the light came all at once as they sat 
there having a similar conversation on the evening of the third day, 
after vainly trying to get some information from their guard, for just 
before sunset the door was thrown open, and looking ver}’’ handsome 
and picturesque, and evidently as if she had paid great attention to her 
toilet, the Inche Maida entered ; and as the two officers started up, she 
walked straight towards Hilton with extended Imud. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

AT FAULT AGAIN. 

“ They’ll find out the value of that woman now,” said Dr. Bolter to 
himself ; “ and if I haven’t done wisely in marrying her, I’m a Dutch- 
man 1 Why, it’s the very thing ! Here am I, Henry Bolter, a duly 


AT FAULT AGAIN. 


177 


qualified medical man, physician, and surgeon in one, ready to afford 
bodily relief; and here is Mary Bolter, my wife — fine soxind about that,” 
he said, smiling with satisfaction — “ my wife — my little wife — no, my 
wife is best ; it sounds more dignified — my wife, ready to afford mental 
relief wherever it is needed ; and here she is.” 

For just then the quick, pattering step of the little lady was heard, 
and, reticule on arm, she came in bustling, hot, and red-faced. 

“Well, my little w^oman, how are you getting on ? ” he said cheerily, 
as he placed his arm round the buxom little waist, and led her to an 
easy-chair, proceeding afterwards, with all a youth’s tenderness, to take 
off her broad hat and light scarf, which he carefully laid down for fear 
of being called to account. 

‘ ‘ Oh, don’t ask me, Henry,” she sighed. ‘ ‘ My heart is nearly broken 
with trouble, and I am doing no good at all.” 

“Ahem!” ejaculated the doctor, taking her hand and feeling the 
pulse. 

“ Don’t be foolish, Henry dear,” she exclaimed. 

“ Foolish ? No, my dear, certainly not. Hum ! Hah ! Much fever 
and exhaustion. Kecipe vin Xeres, cochleare magnum. Brisk oscu- 
lation after the medicine.” 

“ What? ” exclaimed Mrs. Bolter. 

“ You are suffering from weariness and exhaustion, my dear,” said 
the little doctor ; “ and I have prescribed for you a drop of sherry, and 
something to take after it.” 

“ Not sugar, Henry ? and really I would rather not have the wine.” 

“ Doctor’s orders, my dear. There,” he said, pouring the slierry into 
a tumbler, and filling it up with cold water, “ I have made it as re- 
freshing as I could.” 

Mrs. Bolter drank off the draught, and made a wry face, holding out 
her hand. 

“ Where is the stuff for me to take afterwards? ” 

“ There, my dear,” said the doctor, kissing her very tenderly. 

“For shame, Henry!” she cried, blushing like a girl, “Suppose 
anyone had seen you ? ” 

“ Well, it would have been like his or her impudence to look ; and if 
it had been talked about afterwards, really, Mary, my dear, I have 
grown to be such a hardened sinner over that sort of thing, that I 
shouldn’t care a bit.” 

“Keally, Henry,” said the little lady, “anyone would think you 
were a boy, instead of being a middle-aged man.” 

“ I feel quite a boy,” ho said, merrily. “ At least, I should if wo 
were not in such trouble.” 

“And we are, Henry, indeed,” said the little lady, sadly. “I’m 
afraid I’m neglecting you terribly, my dear ; but I am obliged to try 
and help that poor man, who is completely prostrate ; and if it was 
not for the help Gray Stuart gives mo, I’m sure I should break down. 
Have you any new's ? ” 

“ Not a scrap, my dear. Have you ? ” ' 

“ None whatever. But now really, Henry, what do you think of the 
matter ? ” 


178 


ONE iLilD’S MISCHIEF. 


“ ’Pon my word, my dear, I don’t know what to think.” 

“ Don’t say you believe they have had a boat accident, dear. I cannot 
bear to think it possible.” 

“No, my dear, I don’t, and I cannot believe it,” he replied. “ Here 
is the case : for there to have been a boat accident, Helen, Arthur, 
Hilton, and Chumbley must have taken a boat, and they must have all 
gone in together.” 

“ Or Hilton may have been trying to carry Helen away, and Chumbley 
and Arthur, who is as brave as a lion in such matters, may have been 
trying to stop them, or pursued them in a second boat.” 

“ And a struggle ensued, and the boats upset, eh ? ” 

“ Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Bolter, with a shudder. “ Oh, why did you 
bring us out here, Henry, for such horrors to happen ? ” 

“ I did not know that these horrors had happened, my dear,” said 
the doctor, drily. “ Let’s see first if the boat theory holds water. I 
don’t believe it does.’^ 

“ Then you think Murad is at the bottom of it ? ” she said, sharply. 

“I’m for and against,” ho replied. “Let’s wait and see. I don’t 
believe, however, that they are dead.” 

“Oh, no — oh, no!” said Mrs. Bolter, shuddering. “I cannot 
believe that. I’m afraid it’s all due, in some way, to Helen’s folly, ” 

‘ Yes, my deai*,” said the doctor, “and it has quite upset my in- 
tended journey in search of the true Ophir.” 

“ And that’s 5'our folly. Oh, Henry, how much happier I should be 
if you would give up that weakness of yours.” 

“Sorry I can’t, Mary. It’s an old weakness that increases with age. 
Don’t be angry with me, my dear.” 

“ I am not angry, Henry ; only you do worry mo when you will keep 
talking about Solomon’s ships coming here for gold.” 

“ If they’d come here for gold, and you had been living at the time, 
they would have carried you off, for you are richer than refined ” 

“Now, Henry, I will not sit here and listen to such outrageous 
flattery of a very ordinary little woman,” said the lady, looking angry, 
but feeling pleased. “ You must be a very weak man to have taken a 
fancy to me.” 

“ Let me be weak then, my dear,” said the little doctor. 

“ Hush ! ” exclaimed the lady. “ Here is Gray Stuart at the gate ; ” 
and they listened to the click of the Chinese-made bamboo hitch, and 
directly after, looking thin and pale, Helen’s school-fellow was admitted. 

She did not speak, but looked at Mrs. Bolter in a weary, dejected 
manner, that made the little lady take her in her arms, kiss her ten- 
derly, and then place her beside her upon the couch. 

“ Never despair, my dear,” she said, cheerily, “There’s always 
room for hope.” 

“That is what I have been trying to think for days past,” sighed 
Gray ; “ but the trouble only seems to grow darker.” 

“ Don’t say that, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Bolter. “ For my part, 

I will not believe the story of the boat accident; and I have always this 
consolation — that wherever that foolish girl maybe, she has my brother 
by her side.” 


AT FAULT AGAIN. 


179 


Mrs. Bolter felt her cheelcs burn a little as she said this ; for in her 
heart of hearts she had not the faith in her brother’s prudence and 
ability to protect a lady that she professed. 

She glanced at the doctor, and her face became a little hotter, for he 
too was watching her, and she felt that he was reading her thoughts. 

“ I will try and be as hopeful as you are, dear Mrs. Bolter; but it is 
very hard ! ” 

“Bless the child ! I did not think she felt so warm an affection for 
Ilelen Perow'ne,” thought Mrs. Bolter ; “ but it shows how good a heart 
she has.” 

Then aloud : 

“ Oh, how tiresome ! Here is that dreadful Mrs. Barlow coming ! ” 

“ Say I’m out, my dear,” whispered the doctor, hurriedly. “I’ll 
slip round through the surgery.” 

“I cannot say you are out, Henry,” said the little lady, reprovingly ; 
“ but I will say that you are particularly engaged.” 

“ Yes, my dear — an operation,” whispered the doctor. 

“ I shall say nothing of the kind, Harry ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Bolter, 
sternly. 

“ But she will want to see me, and describe her symptoms.” 

“ Then she cannot see you,” replied the little lady, with dignity. “ I 
will take care of that. ” 

Dr. Bolter stepped out by one door, and he had hardly closed it after 
him, when Mrs. Barlow entered by the other. 

' ‘ Ah, my dear Mrs. Bolter,” she sobbed, kissing her in spite of a 
strong objection evinced by the little lady. ‘ ‘ Ah, my dear Miss Stuart, 
these are terrible times.” 

She paused, as if expecting one of those she addressed to speak ; but 
save for acknowledging her salutation, they remained silent. 

“ Have you heard the last news ? ” 

“ No,” replied Mrs. Bolter, quickly, “ Quick ! w'hat is it ? ” 

“ A couple of boatmen have come in just now with some more relics 
of our missing party.” 

“ What lelics ? ” cried Mrs. Bolter, as Gray turned deadly pale. 

“ They have found some scraps of clothing, I believe, and a hat,” 
said the lady. 

“ Where ? Where are they ? ” cried Dr. Bolter, coming in hurriedly, 
for he had been waiting by the door in the not very creditable position 
of an eavesdropper. 

“ Oh, doctor, how you sbirtled me ! I wanted to see you ! ” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Barlow. “I fear I am going to have a bad attack of 
illness!” 

Dr. Bolter was saved from a bad attack of Mrs. Barlow’s symptoms, 
described to him at full length, by the opportune arrival of Harley. 

“ Here, Bolter, I want you,” he said, hastily ; and making his excuses 
for having to leave, the doctor hurried out and joined Mr. Harley in 
the garden. 

“ Y’ou have had something brought in,” said the doctor, hastily. 
“Where is it?” 

“ Down by the landing stage. Perowne has got up from his bod to 


180 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


come and see, and Stuart, Murad, and others are down there inspecting 
them.” 

The doctor accompanied the Resident to the landing-stage, ■where, in 
the midst of a little group, lay some wet and torn rags and a sodden 
hat, muddied and out of shape; -while, squatting hard by the foul 
garments, w'ere a couple of Malay fishermen, who bad found the scraps 
and other articles amongst the mangrove-roots miles a-u'ay. 

Dr. Bolter threw off his coat and rolled up his sleeves to go down on 
one knee by the muddy bank, while with contracted eyes and puckered 
brow the young Rajah looked on. 

“What do you make of them, doctor?” said the Resident, 
hoarsely. 

“Lady’s silk dress that has not been taken off, but dragged from its 
hooks, and ripped and torn away. It seems to have been rolled over 
and over in the tide till it became fastened on to some snag.” 

A shudder ran through the little party, and the doctor continued his 
examination. 

“ Hat,” he said, turning it over. “ Dreadfully battered and soaked ; 
but it is Chumbley’s, I think.” 

“ What is that ? ” said Mr. Harley in a low voice. 

“Coat,” said the doctor. “Gentleman’s; and this is a small 
•W’hite tie.” 

“ Here is a handkerchief,” said old Stuart, picking up what looked 
to be a mere wisp. 

This the doctor took and rinsed in the clear river, starting back on 
the instant, and only just in time, for, attracted by the motion of the 
white handkerchief in the water, a small crocodile of some six feet 
long partially threw itself out of the stream ; but falling short of its 
prey, the reptile shuffled back and was gone. 

No one spoke ; biit the presence of these creatures in such abundance, 
combined with their daring, whispered plainly enough to the party 
assembled what must bo the fate of one 'vvLo was thrown out into 
the stream. 

The doctor took a step or two back, and then, as coolly as if nothing 
had occurred, he shook out the folds of the handkerchief — one of a very 
delicate texture and edged with lace, -while in one corner were the two 
letters, “H. P.,” embroidered by a woman’s hand. 

There -w'as a deep groan here; and as the gentlemen turned, it was to 
see that Murad was resting his face upon a bamboo fence, his hands to 
his brow, and, turned from them as he was, the lookers-on could see 
that his breast was heaving, and that the young man was suffering 
great agony of mind. 

“ Collect all these together,” said the doctor in a whisper; and one 
of the soldiers proceeded to obey his orders, when the young Malay 
leaped upon him fiercely, and tore the handkerchief from his grasp, 
thrust it into his bosom, and strode away. 

The Resident did not move, but stood gazing after the Sultan, his 
brows contracted, and a peculiar look of dislike gathering in his eyes ; 
but he did not speak, and without a word the various relics were 
gathered into a basket and carried across to the Residency island. 


AT FAULT AGAIN. 


181 


•where Dr. Bolter fmuounced that he -would make a further and more 
searching examination. 

Then the party separated, save that the doctor and Neil Harley had 
a long conversation together, in which the latter related how thoroughly 
the river banks had now been searched by the boats enlisted to carry 
the soldiers, who were most energetically aided by the people belonging 
to Kajah Murad and the Inche Maida, both of whom continued to 
almost live at the station, only going away for a few hours at a time 
to see to their own affairs, journeys from which they came back, with 
the rowers of the small boats they used looking terribly distressed. 

“You can trust me, Harley,” said the doctor. “I will not chatter, 
even to my wife, though sho is to be trusted, too. How do you feel 
about the matter now ? ” 

“ Feel ! ” said Neil Harley, quietly. “ I feel that little Miss Stuart 
is right in what she said to me.” 

“ And what was that ? ” 

“ That this is a contest between the wits of the Eastern and the 
European ; that we are being deceived ; and that Sultan Murad is 
playing a part.” 

“ What, after the miserable relics wo have just seen ? ” 

“After the miserable relics we have just seen. He has slaves who 
would die in his service, and W'ho would consider it a merit to deceive 
the heathen English.” 

“ Then he is playing his part maiwellously well,” said the doctor. 

“ Magnificently; and if Miss Stuart is right, as I believe she is, for 
the simple reason that her ideas accord witla mine, he is a born actor. 
That show of grief, and that seizure of the pocket handkerchief were 
admirably done.” 

“If you believe all this, then,” said the doctor, “why not boldly 
charge him with the crime ! ” 

“ To create a little war, with no better reason than my suspicions ? 
A charge made in face of the most earnest work— while he is 
striving might and main to serve us.” 

“ Apparently,” said the doctor. 

“ Yes, apparently. But you see my position. Here are our two 
friendly natives both offended, but professing forgiveness, and working 
for us. I cannot charge them on bare suspicion. I must have some 
proof.” 

“ Then why not search land as well as river ? ” 

“How?” said the Eesident. “Be reasonable. Bolter. You know 
as w'ell as I do that the rivers and streams are almost the only roads 
here. To penetrate elsewhere is to cut your way through the dense 
jangle. Say I determine to offend the Prince and Princess, and take 
soldiers, saying I mean to search their little towns, what good would 
that do ? ” 

“ None, certainly,” said the doctor. “They would not leave their 
prisoners there if they are prisoners.” 

“ You doubt, then ? ” 

“ I doubt, and I don’t doubt. I am not a diplomat, Harley. This 
is out of my line. If you have a pain, and give me your symptoms, 


182 


ONE IVIAID’S MISCHIEF. 


I’ll tell you what causes that pain. I can cut you anywhere without 
injuring an important artery, nerve, or vein ; and I can extract bullets, 
cure fevers, mend broken bones. I can also classify most of the natural 
history objects of our district ; but over a job like this we have in hand 
I am at sea. Try Mrs. Bolter or Gray Stuart — they will counsel you 
better than I. Tell me, though, are you going to do anything ? ” 

“ Yes. In confidence, I do not trust either Murad or the Inche 
Maida. This may all be some deeply-laid plot of both to obtain re- 
venge ; perhaps to begin ousting us from this place, where we are 
looked upon with jealousy.” 

“ Yes, very likely ; but what are you going to do ? ” 

“Meet Eastern cunning with Eastern cunning. I am about to 
employ some people from lower down the river who are now seeking 
alliance with us, seeing how well it pays.” 

“ What, as spies ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the Kesident, quietly. “ I do not believe in the present 
theory of the disappearance, so I shall try these people. If Murad is 
playing us false, why then ” 

“ Well, why don’t you finish ? ” 

“ I fear,” said the resident, fiercely, “ that I shall go farther than to 
exact stern justice for this act ; for when a man’s feelings are touched 
as mine are now ” 

He did not finish, but turned sharply away, as if all this was more 
than he could bear. 

That night the doctor whispered to his wife to keep her counsel, 
and not to fret about those who were lost, for Neil Harley was deeply 
moved ; and if something startling did not come out of it before many 
days were past, he. Dr. Bolter, was no man. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

BECOMING HUMBLED. 

Tub secret of the peculiarly-scented water was explained ; it was a 
stain, prepared for the purpose, and face, neck, hands, arms were no 
longer those of Helen Perowne — whose complexion was acknowledged 
even by her detractors to be perfect — for as she again gazed within 
the limits of that little badly-reflecting glass, it was to see that her 
countenance now was as swarthy as that of the darkest of the Malays 
by whom she was attended. 

It was a great shock ; but there was a trouble even worse to come. 

The two Malay girls burst into fits of laughter as they saw her 
horror, their eyes glittering with malicious pleasure; and catching 
Helen’s arms in their hands, they laid them side by side with their 
own, to show her that they were as nearly as could be of about the 
same hue. 

Then they mockingly pointed to her face, and to their own, holding 
the glass before her again and again, while from the smattering she 


BECOMING HUMBLED. 


ia‘3 

knew of the language, Helen made out that they were telling her how 
beautiful she looked now, and that she ought to be grateful for that 
which they had done. 

By degrees, though, the anguish she was suffering seemed to be 
realized, and to wake an echo in their coarser minds, and they began 
to soften towards her, speaking tenderly, and patting her hands and 
cheeks, and at last going so far as to kiss her, as they whispered what 
were evidently meant to be words of comfort. 

“ You foolish thing,” cried the elder of the two ; “ what is there so 
dreadful in it all ? He loves you, and you will be his chief wife. It 
is we who ought to weep, not you.” 

“Yes,” cried the other, apparently quite oblivious of the fact that 
only about one word in ten w'as comprehended by the prisoner ; “ we 
are jealous of you, for you take away his love from us. The Eajah 
has talked about you for a long time, saying how lovely you were, 
only that you were so fair.” 

“ I hate you,” cried the first ; “ but I will not be cruel, for you are 
in trouble. You have been brought away from your father. I 
remember so well how I was ready to beat my head against the trees, 
and to drown myself in the river, wlien they brought me from my 
home. But Murad was very angiy when I wept, and after a time I 
learned how to bear my sorrow, and I wept no more.” 

“I wept too,” said the other, “ for I loved a handsome young fisher- 
man, and when they dragged me away from my home, I fought, and 
bit, and tore people, and Murad said I was to be krissed and thrown 
into the river. Then I thought about the crocodiles, and I felt that it 
■would be too dreadful, and I left off crying, and so will you. There, 
try and bear it, for it is of no avail to weep. Murad is prince, and 
what he will have he has.” 

Hardly one word in ten, but the recurrence of the name “ Murad ” 
and “ love ” were sufficient to make her suspicions certainties ; and as 
she fully realized the extent of her trouble, she shuddered, and sat 
with her hands tightly clasped, gazing into vacancy, and asking 
herself what madness had been hers that she should have allowed her 
folly to bring her to so sad a pass. 

She was soon after left to herself, and leaving the matting divan 
upon which she had been seated, she paced the room, frantically trying 
door and windows in turn, but only to find all fast. Again and again 
she found her follies recurring to her mind, and she blamed herself 
bitterly for her coquetry, and the thoughtless love of admiration which 
had tempted her to attract the Eajah’s notice. 

So terribly agitating were her thoughts now, that in her excitement 
her hands shook, her legs trembled beneath her weight, and her busy 
imagination coursed on so swiftly that she saw herself the injured, 
helpless wife of the insulted Malay, the occupant of a zenana, and the 
slave of the man whom she had maddened by her weakness and folly. 

It was terrible ; and so black did the future outlook become to her 
excited imagination, that the only gleam of hope through the darkness 
was represented by a shuddering belief that it would be better now 
to die. 


184 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Carried off as she had been, Tinhno-wn to any but the Eajah’s 
followers, and now hidden away in this place, that seemed to be far in 
the depths of the jungle, there seemed no chance of her whereabouts 
being discovered ; while were it known to any European who should 
see her, upon what would he gaze but one w'ho was in his eyes an 
ordinary Malay woman ! 

This, then, was the goal to which her ambition had carried her. It 
was for this that she had laughed at the protestations of her many 
admirers, the humblest of whom she would gladly have accepted now 
sooner than become the wife, or rather slave, of this petty, half-savage 
Rajah. 

“ Poor Hilton !” she thought sadly to herself, as she stood by the 
window, gazing out at the great green leaves of the jungle. Would he 
suffer much at her loss ? or, feeling too indignant on account of her 
late treatment, be too angry to care ? 

Then she began thinking of Chumbley, and wished that he, with 
his strong arm, were by her side to protect her in this hour of need ; 
and it wms a bitter humiliation to her to feel that this man, towards 
whom she had always felt a kind of good-humoured contempt, should 
bo one to whom she was ready to cling in the time of adversity. 

Then the calm, pensive features of Arthur Rosebury seemed to rise 
before her like an upbraiding spectre, and she, for the first time, 
seemed to see her cruelty in trifling with the best feelings of a man 
who was gentle, tender, and true of heart as a w’oman ; she knew now 
how she must have wounded him, and yet he had borne it all in a 
patient, uncomplaining way, bearing with her follies, displaying no 
jealousy, but condoning everything, and seeming only too happy if she 
paid him with a smile. 

There was something very nearly akin to pity and regret in her 
thoughts at this time ; and like some punished child, there came to her 
mind weak, repentant vows of amendment and simple promises never 
to do so again. 

Lastly, the face of Neil Harley seemed to rise before her, not 
pitying or pleading like the rest, but with a quiet smile of triumph 
that made her think upon his -words, and what is more, set her longing 
for him to be by her side to help and protect her. 

She passed her hands across her eyes angrily, and seemed to dis- 
claim the wish, but directly after came the recollection of her state, 
and she uttered a weary cry of misery. She had despised him before 
— he would despise her now ; and if ho could see her as she had seen 
herself in that mirror, he would turn from her in disgust. 

She pondered again, as she grew calmer, upon his words to her, 
uttered as they had been in his quiet, bantering way — that he would 
wait his time till she was weary of trifling with others, when she would 
turn to him and gladly become his wife. 

Never until now had Helen felt how true these words might prove, 
for as she rested her burning forehead against the bamboo trellis of 
her window^ asking the outer air to cool her fevered face — that face that 
he would never look upon again with the eyes of love — his calm, grave 
manner of dealing with others seemed so representative of power and 


BECOMING HUMBLED. 


185 


readiness to help, that her heart -vrent out to him as to her natural 
protector, and in a low, passionate voice, she murmured : 

“ Neil — Neil — come to me before it is too late ! ” 

Then came once more as it were a wave of despair to sweep over -her 
and overwhelm her in misery and despair. 

“ It is too late — too late,” she moaned. “I might have been happy 
and at peace, but it is too late— too late.” 

As she stood there wringing her hands, she found herself thinking 
more and more of Neil Harley, and she saw now what she had been too 
indifferent to appreciate before : that beneath his calm, half-mocking 
mien there was a depth of affection that she now began to realize to its 
fullest extent. 

And yet he had borne with her follies patiently, merely laughing at 
acts that she knew now must have given him great pain, doubtless feel- 
ing that some day she would sorrow for what she had done, and seek 
by her affection to recompense him for all that had gone before. 

Her heart told her, now that she did turn to him — that she was feel- 
ing the strength of his love in the echo it met with in her own heart. 
She had not known that it was there — this love for him — but it surely 
was; and now her punishment was to be a terrible one — that of one 
torn by regret for the love that might have been hers, but which she 
had cast away. 

For it was too late now — too late, and those words seemed to be ever 
repeating themselves in her ears. 

She had never cared for either of those who had been her slaves in 
turn. Their attentions and service had been pleasant, and they had 
been in favour for the time; but she soon wearied of them, and but for 
the fact that Captain Hilton was cast in a firmer mould than either of 
the others, the days of his love-slavery would have been shorter far. 
Would he come and try to save her? her heart asked — would Neil 
Harley come ? 

She asked this again and again, but each time, with crushing 
violence, the answer seemed to come that if they did, it would be too 
late — too late. 

It was wonderful how, in the few hours she was left alone, her 
thoughts seemed now to centre upon the Eesident. She remembered 
her father, and thought of how he would be troubled at her absence ; 
and she recalled Hilton, Chumbley, the Reverend Arthur Rosebury, 
but only as subsidiary portraits in her mental picture. Neil Harley’s 
was the principal figure, and his face seemed to smile now encourage- 
ment to her as she mentally appealed to him for help, looking to him 
as the one whose duty it was to afford her protection, and save her from 
the perils which hemmed her in. 

“ It will be — it is — a bitter lesson to me,” she thought, as she ^‘ow 
more calm. “ He will find out where I am — he will never rest until ho 
does; and when he sees me, will ho cast me off? No,” she cried, 
hysterically; “ he will have pity on me — have pity — for, oh, Heaven 
help me ! I need it now sorely,” 

These thoughts brought calmness to the prisoner, and uttering a sigh 
of relief, she left the window, and threw herself wearily upon the soft 


186 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


mats spread for her use — neither chair nor table being in the apartment 
• — and there she reclined, wondering how long a time would elapse 
before Neil Harley could come to her help ; for minute by minute her 
belief strengthened that, well supported by her friends, he would soon 
be there. 

Helen’s increasing calmness gave her a return of appetite, and she 
gained strength for trials to come by partaking heartily of the food 
placed before her ; and, as the evening advanced into night, she lay 
down and rested, giving her companions no trouble by fresh attempts 
to escape. 

The bright morning sunshine gave her fresh hope, and a sense of 
cheerfulness which she assumed with beating heart was due to the fact 
that Neil Harley was drawing nearer, and in this elated spirit she par- 
took of breakfast, the two Malay girls laughing merrily, and pausing 
to place some sweet-scented flowers in her tresses. Then she had to sub- 
mit while they made some alteration in the way in which they had 
bound up her hair, showing their teeth more than seemed necessary, 
and drawing her attention to the fact that they were not only dyed, 
but filed in a particular way. 

They were veiy attentive, bringing her flowers and fruit in large 
quantities. Then they brought brighter and gayer sarongs, asking her 
if she would change, telling her that her darkened face was becoming, 
pointing to her teeth at the same time, and tapping their own. 

She was puzzled for the time, but the explanation was not long in 
coming. 

In the course of the morning, while she sat listening to the babble 
of the two attendants, but with her ears strained to catch every 
external sound, she suddenly heard voices outside talking earnestly, 
and her heart gave a hopeful throb as she turned her head, her fond 
imagination suggesting, at once, the thought that the excitement out- 
side was due to the knowledge of strangers being at hand. 

Helen’s hope died out like the flickering flame of an exhausted 
lamp, as the thick woven curtain hanging over the door was held 
aside, and a tall, muscular, repulsive-looking Malay woman entered 
with three others, whom, by their rich dresses, Helen supposed to be 
the Eajah’s wives. 

They looked at her once or twice, and then stood talking together 
in their own tongue. Then they left the room quickly, and returned 
to speak eagerly, glancing the while at where Helen sat watchfully 
scanning them, till the tall, repulsive woman having apparently 
received her instructions, they all approached the soft matting couch. 

It was a strange experience for the English lady, and Helen’s heart 
beat fast as she asked herself what all this meant. 

“It is some native form of marriage-service,” she thought, to 
which she was about to bo compelled to submit. She had heard of 
marriage by proxy, and this might be one ; for in her state of alarm 
she was ready to accept any idea, preposterous though it might 
seem. 

“I will not submit! ” she said to herself, and setting her teeth fast, 
she prepared to resist them as long as she had life. This she felt was 


DU. BOLTER MAKES PLANS. 


187 


the meaning of her being attired in tlio Malay fashion ; and gazing 
from one to the other in an excited way, she drew herself up and 
awaited the attack, if attack there was to be. 

The tall Malay woman came up to her slowly, till she stood smiling 
beside the couch, while the others seemed to carelessly group them- 
selves together, as if what was to occur was not of the slightest conse- 
quence ; but Helen saw that they were watching her with eager interest 
all the same. 

A fresh regret assailed the prisoner now, and that was her want of 
knowledge of the Malay tongue, as she sat wondering what was the 
meaning of the conversation that had taken place. 

The tall woman spoke to her then slowly, and trying to make her 
comprehend, but it was some moments before Helen understood 
her demand : 

‘ ‘ Let me look at your teeth.” 

Helen shrank back, but the woman’s hand was upon her lips, and 
she forced one aside, laying bare the pure w'hite ivory, and then 
snatched her hand away with a contemptuous ejaculation full of 
disgust. 

“ Bad ! — bad !” she cried, in Malay ; and then all laughed, as Helen 
rose up and drew away from them, her eyes flashing with indignation. 

“ I wall make them well,” said the woman, taking a little woven 
grass bag from her sarong, and drawing therefrom a small brass phial 
and a steel implement, whose use Helen, did not then comprehend. 

The woman spoke to her then in an imperative tone, stepped 
forward, and, taking her arm, tried to force her into a sitting posture ; 
but with a cry of anger Helen thrust her back, and ran to the door, 
dragging aside the curtain, and trying to pass through. 

Qhe effort was vain, and uttering some sharp, angry commands, 
the woman advanced to her once more, speaking rapidly in her own 
tongue, and before Helen could avoid her rapid action, she found 
herself pinioned by the wrists. 

What followed was, as Helen afterwards recalled it, one frantic 
straggle against superior power. She remembered crying loudly for 
help, being held back upon the matting, and suffering intense pain, as 
her tormentors held her lij)3 apart, some of them scolding virulently, 
others laughing and ridiculing her ; and then a feeling of exhaustion 
came on, and nature could do no more than beneficently bring upon 
her complete ignorance of the indignity to which she, an English 
lady, was forced to submit, by steeping her senses in a profound 
Bwoon, leaving her at the mercy of Murad’s slaves. 


CHAPTER XLVIir. 

DOCTOR BOLTER MAKES PLANS. 

“ I don’t think I can do any good if I stay here,” said Dr. Bolter to 
himself. “ I’ve done everything I could think of, and I am ready to 


IBS'- 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


own that it is very terrible ; but a month has gone by now, and a 
doctor who is so used to facing death and seeing people die does not — 
cannot feel it as others do. 

“ That is, of course, when a man — his brother-in-law — is dead ; but 
I don’t even know that poor Arthur Kosebury is dead, and as we say 
while there’s life there’s hope, 

“Humph! How stupid of me! I don’t know that there is life, 
so how can there be hope.” 

Doctor Bolter was on his way back home after a professional round 
amongst his patients. His eyes were fixed upon the ground, and 
ev.ery now and then, as he walked slowly on in the heat, he paused 
to examine some fly or ant that crossed his path, or settled upon the 
bamboo railings of a garden. 

“ Good morning, doctor,” said a pleasant voice, that made him start 
from the contemplation of a spider to a far more agreeable sight — 
that of the face of Gray Stuart, who looked up at him in a weary, 
appealing way. 

“Ah, my little rosebud,” he said, smiling. “ Tut ! I had forgotten. 
Why Gray, my child, you don’t look well. Hah! this won’t do,” ho 
continued, letting his fingers slip from her hand to her wrist. “Bit 
feverish, my dear. Gray, my child, you’re fretting about Helen 
Perowne.” 

“ It is so terrible this suspense, doctor,” she said, pleadingly. 

“ Yes, my dear, it is very terrible ; but keep that sunshade up: 
the sun is very powerful this morning.” 

Gray raised her creamy-white sunshade that she had allowed to hang 
by her side, and as the doctor finished counting the throbs of her pulse, 
he drew her hand through his arm, patted it into position, and then 
walked slowly on by her side. 

‘ ‘ Nature says, my dear, that we must not fret and worry ourselves, 
because if we do we shall be ill.” 

“ Oh, yes, doctor,” sighed Gray, with a pitiful look in her soft eyes, 
“ but this passing away of dav after day is dreadful. What are we to 
do ?” 

“ Wait, my dear, wait.” 

“ Wait !” cried Gray, whose eyes flashed for a moment. “ Oh, if I 
were a man, 1 think I would find some means of discovering what has 
become of our friends.” 

“ Well, my little maiden, you are not a man, and are not likely to 
be,” said the doctor, smiling ; “ but no doubt your advice may be good, 
though your action might be weak. Now, then, tell me — what would 
you do if you were a man ?” 

“I would send out parties to search,” cried Gray, indignantly. 
“ Who knows where our poor friends may be !” 

“ Ah, who knows, my dear inconsiderate little friend ?” said the 
doctor, quietly. “ Now, don’t you know that for nearly a month past 
Harley has had, not parties, but single men — natives — out in search of 
information about our friends ?” 

“ No,” said Gray, “I did not know that.” 

^^No, you did not know that, my dear, but he has, and without the 


DE. BOLTER MAKES PLANS. 


IS'J 


slightest success, although he has promised a heavy reward for any 
valuable information.” 

“ It is very good of Mr. Harley, and I beg his pardon,” sighed Gray. 

“And I take upon myself to say that the pardon is granted,” said 
the doctor. “ And now, my dear, I suppose you think that this is not 
enough, but that we — I mean Harley — ought to send out soldiers ?” 

“ Yes, I have thought so,” said Gray, hesitatingly. 

“Hah! yes, I suppose so ; but it has never occurred to you, my 
dear, I daresay, that in this jungle-covered country, where the rivers 
are the only roads, the passage of soldiers, with the stores they require, 
is a terribly difficult affair.” 

“ I fear it would be,” said Gray ; “ but the case is so urgent, doctor.” 

“ Tei*ribly urgent, my dear ; but like some of the urgent cases with 
which I have to deal, I have to do all I can, and then leave the rest to 
nature. Let us hope, my dear, that nature will work a cure for us 
here, and that one of these days they will all turn up again alive and 
well.” 

“ Oh, doctor, do you think so ?” cried Gray, who was ready to cling 
to the slightest straw of promise. 

“I don’t say that I think so,” he replied, “ I say I hope so.” 

Gray sighed. 

“ There, there, there, I forbid it,” said the doctor, with assumed 
anger. “ We cannot have you fretting yourself ill, my dear, for wo 
want your help. My little wifie could not get on at all without you 
to cheer and comfort her ; and I believe if it were not for you poor 
Perowne would go distraught. Then there’s your father, who looks 
upon you as the one object of his life ; and lastly, there’s your doctor.” 

“You, dear Doctor Bolter,” said Gray, smiling in his face. 

“Yes; that is the person I mean, my dear. Do you want to dis- 
grace him ?” 

“ Disgrace you, doctor ?” said Gray, wonderingly. 

“ Yes, by turning weak and delicate and ill after all I have done to 
keep you sound and well. No, Gray Stuart, my dear ; there are some 
people in this busy world of ours who must never break down, never 
want rest, and never be ill in any shape ; those people are doctors like 
me — and clever, useful little women like you. Depend upon it, my 
dear, if you were to turn poorly there would be a regular outcry upon 
the station, and everyone would be finding out your value.” 

“ But they used to do wdthout me, doctor,” said Gray, smiling. 

“Exactly, my dear; but now that they have become used to the 
luxury of your presence they will not do without it again. No, my 
dear ; you must not turn ill. Ergo, as Shakspere’s clown says, you 
must not fret. Let’s hope, my dear, that all will come right yet.” 

“ I will try and hope, doctor,” said Gray, quietly, “ and I will not 
fret.” 

“That’s right, little woman. Depend upon it, two such dashing 
fellows as Chumbley and friend Hilton will not drop out of sight like 
stones thrown down a well. They’Jl turn up again some day. Good- 
bye. Take care of ray little wifie : she’s the only one I’ve got, you 
know,” he added, laughingly. “ Going to see her now ?” 


100 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


** Yes, doctor.” 

“ When is she going to leave Perowne ?” 

“ He is not fit to leave at present,” said Cray, shaking her head. 

“ Then I suppose we must stay,” said the doctor, parting from Gray 
with quite a parent’s solicitude ; and then he stood watching her as she 
went beneath the shady trees. 

“ That little lassie is fretting about one of those chaps,” said the 
doctor ; “ I’ll be bound she is. She wouldn’t turn pale and red, and 
grow thin and weak, because Helen Perowne has disappeared. I wonder 
whether it’s big Chumbley. Well, we shall see. Now about my 
projects.” 

He walked slowly homeward and entered the snug cottage-like place, 
which was the very pattern of primness, and day by day grew more 
like to the place where he had first set eyes upon his wife. 

“Seems precious dull without the little woman,” he muttered ; “ but 
I suppose I mustn’t grumble as she’s away to do good to others.” 

He thrust his hands into his pockets, and walked up and down the 
room. 

“ Dear, dear me,” he said, impatiently ; “a man, especially a doctor, 
can’t go on bemoaning people for ever. Where would science be if ho 
did ? Of course I’m very sorry about poor old Arthur, though after 
all perhaps he’ll turn up all right, with his vasculum full of new 
orchids. Here’s time galloping away, weeks and months and years, 
and I never get a bit nearer to the solution of my problem. Here am 
I, as I may say, right upon the very spot, and yet I do nothing what- 
ever to prove that this is the place to which King Solomon sent to find 
his gold, and apes, and peacocks.” 

Doctor Dolter took off his sun-hat, and rubbed his bald head in a 
peculiarly vicious way, and then went on debating the question so as 
to w'ork himself up to the carrying out of the project which he had 
in view. 

“Here’s the case,” he said. “My wife’s out; there’s nobody ill, 
for I’ve polished off all that needs doing this morning, so when could 
there be a better chance ? I’ll go, that I will.” 

But there came up, as if to oppose him, the recollection of the 
morning after Mr. Perowne’s party, and he was obliged to ask himself 
how could he go now ? 

“I don’t care,” he cried, angrily. “I have done all I could, and 
thought of all I could, and I can do no more. Here’s my wife out 
nearly always now, so that she would not miss me, so I ought to go. 

I might discover that this is the real site of Solomon’s gold mines, and 
if so Phew, what a paper to read at the Eoyal Geographical ! 

“ I’ll go ! My mind’s made up. I’ll go, that I will,” he exclaimed ; 
“ and somehow I seem to fancy that this time I shall make my great 
discovery. Hah ! yes ; what a discovery ! And that paper read before 
the Eoyal Society— a paper on the discovery of the Ancient Ophir, by 
Dr. Bolter, F.E.S. W^, my name — our name I should say, for Mary’s 
sake — would be handed down to posterity.” 

Here the doctor gave his head another rub, as if to get rid of a 
tiresome fly. 


DR. BOLTER TAKES A HOLIDAY. 


191 


“ I don’t know about posterity,” he muttered. “ It wouldn’t matter 
to me, as I’ve no youngsters. Still it would be a fine discovery to 

make. But ” 

Here he had another vicious rub. 

“ Suppose in the meantime Helen Perowne and the rest of the party 
come back I ” 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

DOCTOR BOLTER TAKES A HOLIDAY. 

That question of the possibility of Helen Perowne coming back inter- 
fered a good deal with Doctor Bolter’s project — one which he had been 
longing to put in force for months and months — a project which his 
journey to England and his marriage had set aside, though it was 
never forgotten. 

“ Suppose Helen comes back ? ” he asked himself often. 

“ Well, I ought to be here,” he said ; “ but if she were to return in 
my absence she couldn’t help being pleased, for I might have discovered 
the gold mines. But ought I to tell Mary where I am going ? 

“No,” he said, decidedly ; “ she would object. She might agree to 
my going upon a collecting expedition ; but she would say as she said 
before, that the Ophir question was a myth. 

Somehow the more Doctor Bolter tried to make up his mind to go, 
the more undecided he grew. He wanted to make an expedition into 
the interior very badly, but the hidden influence of that very decided 
little woman his wife was there still, making him feel guilty and like 
a child who tries to conceal some fault ; and somehow, the more he 
tried to shake off the sensation, the worse he felt. 

“There, it’s no use,” he cried at last, angrily. “ No sooner does a 
man marry than farewell to independence. They say a man and his 
wife become one flesh, and really I think it’s a fact, for the man is 
completely absorbed and it’s all wife. The man becomes nobody 
at all.” 

The doctor went into his own room, half museum, half surgery, and 
in a listless, pettish way he began to pull out drawer after drawer of 
specimens, some of which required examination badly, for the ants were 
beginning an attack, and this necessitated the introduction cf a pungent 
acid which these busy little insects did not like. 

“I might find gold in abundance,” said the doctor, as he busied 
himself over his specimens. “ I might make such discoveries as would 
cause ray name to be famous for ever, and here am I tied as it were by one 
unfortunate step to my wife’s apron. Hah I I was a great idiot to 
sacrifice ray liberty. 

“Not I,” he added, sharply. “ Not I. She is a bit of a tyrant 
with me, and she’s as jealous as Othello, but she is an uncommonly 
nice little woman, and, bless her, she thinks I’m about the cleverest 
fellow under the sun. 

13 


192 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Well, there’s not much to grumble at there,” he said, decidedly, as 
he smiled and settled his chin in his collar. “ I don’t see that I need 
mind her being a bit jealous of me. It shows how fond she is, and she 
must be very proud of me if she thinks like that.” 

This idea gave the little doctor so much satisfaction that for the 
moment he determined to go up to Perowne’s and ask his wife for 
leave of absence for a few days. 

“ N— no ! It wouldn’t do,” he muttered, shaking his head dolefully. 
“ She would not let me go. I shall have to make a bold dash for it if 
I do mean to have a run, and face the consequences afterwards. 

“Look here, you know,” he cried gazing round at his specimens ; 
“ it’s about pitiful that’s what it is, and I might just as well give 
up collecting altogether. Such an invitation from the Inche Maida 
as I had, to make her place my home, and start from there upon 
my investigations, only that stupid jealous idea on the part of my wife 
stopped it ! Bah ! It is intolerable.” 

He thrust in a drawer in a most vicious manner; but Doctor Bolter’.s 
annoyance with his wife came and went like an April shower. On re- 
opening the drawer he proceeded to arrange the specimens that his 
petulant fit had disturbed. 

“ I shall have to give it up,” he said, sadly. “ So I may as well make 
the best of it, and — Hooray I ” 

Doctor Bolter slapped one of his legs vigorously, as if he were killing 
a fly, and a sunshiny look of pleasure spread all over his face. 

“ To be sure ! The very idea I I’ll carry it out too — just a little— 
so as to be quite square with her; and who knows but what I might 
pick up some news of them after all. Why didn’t I think of this 
before ? 

“ Let me see,” be continued, thoughtfully, “how shall I manage it? 
What shall I do ? I know. I’ll run right up the river — ten miles or so 
beyond the Inche Maida’s — and then strike into one of the supplementary 
streams, and make straight for the mountains. 

“ That will be capital I ” he cried, rubbing his hands. “ Who knows 
but what I may hit upon some one or other of the old gold-workings ; 
find ancient implements — proofs perhaps that Solomon’s ships sailed 
up this very river. The idea is grand, sir, and I’ll be off at once ! ” 

The idea was so “grand, sir,” that in that hot climate it put the 
little doctor in a profuse perspiration, and he walked up and down the 
room, handkerchief in hand, dabbing his face and head, 

“Yes,” he cried, eagerly, “I may find out something about Helen 
Perowne and our other friends. I’ve got a good excuse for going now, 
and go I will I ’’ 

He stood thinking for a few minutes; and then, adjusting his 
puggree so as to give plenty of shelter to the back of his head, ho 
walked down to the river-side, and one of the Malay boatmen paddled 
him in his sampan across to the Kesidency island, where he stepped out 
and walked up to Mr. Harley’s official room, to find that gentleman 
looking older and more careworn than was his wont. 

“ Well, doctor, what news ? ”, ho said, anxiously. “ Anything 
wrong ? ” 


DE. BOLTER TAKES A HOLIDAY. 193 


“No; nothing fresh.” 

“ No fever or cholera to add to one’s trouble, eh ? ” 

“Nothing at all,” was the reply. “No, sir, I can present you with 
a clean bill of health.” 

“Then why have you come? Not for nothing, doctor,” said the 
Resident, sharply. 

“Here, I say,” cried the little doctor, “don’t be so horribly in- 
hospitable when a man comes to see you ? ” 

“Inhospitable? Nonsense! You have not come across here to 
find hospitality. Now, doctor, speak out. What is it ? Do you know 
anything ? ” 

“Plainly, no. But the fact is,” said the visitor, clearing his throat, 
“ I am not busy now ; Mrs. Bolter is a good deal away from home, 
so I thought this would bo a favourable opportunity for taking a boat 
and a man or two, and going \ip the river to explore a few of the side 
streams, so as to try and find Helen Perowne.” 

“ Rubbish I ” said the Resident, sharply. 

“ Eh ? ” ejaculated the doctor, who was taken aback by the Resident’s 
quick, unceremonious way of speaking. 

“ I said Rubbish, Bolter, and I now say Humbug, man I Do you 
think I do not know better than that ? ” 

“ My dear Harley 1” exclaimed the little doctor, indignantly. 

“ Look here. Bolter, you want an excuse for one of your gold hunts — • 
your Ophir explorations. AVhy don’t you go, then, without all this 
childish excuse ? You are your own master.” 

The doctor was so taken aback by his friend’s onslaught that he 
shook his head vigorously. 

“Well, suppose we say Now that Mrs. Bolter is away?” said the 
Resident, smiling. 

“ Hadn’t we better drop that line of argument ? ” said the doctor, 
uneasily. “ Really, Harley, you know, it’s too bad — ’pon my honoui 
it is. It isn’t gentlemanly ! ” 

“ My dear Bolter,” began the Resident. 

“There are private matters!” cried the doctor, fuming, “upon 
which no man ought to touch, and my domestic relations are of 
that kind ! ” 

“I should not have spoken,” said the Resident, “only you — a man 
who can do as ho likes about going out collecting— came to mo 
with such a weak piece of sham by way of excuse for your actions. 
Doctor, I blush for you ! ” 

“Well, come, I will be honest with you; I am going out collecting 
and exploring.” 

“Of course you are. I knew.” 

“ Stop a moment,” exclaimed the doctor, “let me finish. I shoxild 
not go, only the idea occurred to me that I might perhaps get upon the 
track of that poor girl ! If I do, I shall follow it to the end.”. 

The Resident said something in a hasty, indistinct tone, and the 
doctor stared at him, quite startled by his manner. 

“ Why, Harley ! ” he exclaimed, “ one would think that you were 
hard touched in that direction ! ” 


194 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Touclied ! ” cried the Resident, recovering his equanimity, and 
putting on his official mask. “ Why, man, of what stuff do you 
suppose I am made ? Am I not answerable to Government as well as to 
my own conscience for the weKare of all who are here; and do you 
suppose that I can bear this terrible visitation, even after this length of 
time, with equanimity ? ” 

“No, no, of course not — of course not ? ” cried the doctor, hastily. 

“ Well, there, go, and good speed to you. I sincerely hope that you 
may discover something. Would you like Sergeant Harris with you ? ” 

“ No, no, certainly not ! I believe in going quietly and almost alone. 
Look here, Harley, you would trust me entirely if you were unwelL 
Now suppose you do the same over this matter ? ” 

The Resident nodded. 

* Now, to tap this subject once again — repetition though it may 
seem — tell me, after due thought, what is your opinion now ? Do you 
still suspect Murad? ” 

“I cannot say,” replied the Resident, “I did suspect him, but 
ho has been so earnest in his offers of help, and his men have joined so 
thoroughly with ours in searching the river and scouring the jungle- 
paths, that there are times when I cannot believe him guilty.” 

“ Have you heard any more from your fresh allies ? ” 

“Nothing,” replied the Resident. They confess themselves at fault ; 
while Murad has been here this morning to tell me that he was 
put upon a new scent yesterday, but that it turned out to bo a false 
one. This man puzzles me, clover as I thought myself, for 1 have 
not found out yet whether or no he has been throwing dust in my eyes. 
Probably I never shall.” 

“ I am afraid ho is deep,” said the doctor, thoughtfully. 

“ Very deep or very shallow,” said the Resident. “ Some day, 
perhaps, we shall know. You are going up the river, then ? When do 
you start ? ” 

“ As soon as I have had a little chat upon the subject with — you know. 
I will not bo very long away, Harley, and you will take care of 
my people like the rest — I mean have an eye on home.” 

“ Go, and good luck go with you,” said the Resident, warmly. 
“ Trust me, Bolter, I will do my best.” 

“ You don’t think then, I ought to stay ? ” 

“No ; we have done all we can. Who knows but what you may hit 
upon some clue in your wanderings ? ” 

“ Ah ! who knows ! ” said the doctor. “ More wonderful things have 
happened, cb ? ” 

“ Chance sometimes solves problems that hard work has not mastered, 
Bolter,” said the Resident, smiling. “There, good-bye ! ” 

“Good-bye,” said the doctor, shaking hands heartily; and leaving 
Neil Harley’s room, he began to wipe his face. 

“ I’m afraid I’ve been acting like a terrible humbug,” he muttered, 
“ for I have not the remotest hope of finding Helen Perowne. I wish 
I were not such a moral coward over such things as this. Poor old 
Harley I he’s terribly cut up about matters, and I must seem strangely 
unfeeling. What a girl that was I 


BR. BOLTER TAKES A HOLIDAY. 


195 


“ Tut— -tut— tut ! ” he exclaimed. “ Why do I speak of her as gone ? 
WTiat a girl she is ! Well, so far so good. Harley makes no objection 
to my going away. Now let us see what the general will say.” 

Doctor Bolter felt that he had his most terrible task to perform 
in getting leave of his wife, and he returned home with a peculiar 
sensation of dread. 

“It is very strange,” he said; “but I am getting nervous I think, 
I never feel it at any other time but when I am going to make 
some proposal to Mrs. Bolter.” 

To his great discomposure he found the lady within. This might 
have been looked upon as an advantage, but he was not, he said, quite 
prepared ; and he sat listening to her accounts of Mr. Perowno’s state, 
and Gray Stuart’s kindly help. She suddenly turned upon him : 

“ Henry,” she exclaimed, “ you were not thinking of what I said.” 

“ I — I beg your pardon, my dear,” he replied. 

“ Of what were you thinking, then ? ” 

The doctor hesitated a moment, and then he felt that the time 
had come for speaking. 

“I was thinking, my dear, that no better opportunity is likely 
to offer for one of my expeditions.” 

Mrs. Bolter looked at him rather wistfully for a few moments, and 
then said, with a sigh : 

“ Perhaps not, Henry. Y’ou had better go.” 

“ Do you mean it, Mary ? ” he said, eagerly. 

“If you think the station can be left in safety, perhaps you had 
better go,” she said, quietly. “ I will have Gray Stuart to stay with 
me. 1 will not stand in your way, Henry, if you wish to leave.” 

“ It almost seems too bad,” he said, “ but I should really like to go 
for a day or two, Mary. Harley says he can spare me, and no better 
chance is likely to come than now.” 

“ Then by all means go,” said Mrs. Doctor, “ only pray take care, and 
remember, Henry,” she whispered, affectionately, “ I am alone now.” 

Vowing that those last words would make him come home far more 
quickly than he had intended, the doctor prepared the few necessaries 
he always took upon such occasions, and was about to start, when 
there was a fresh impediment in the person of Mrs. Barlow, who came 
in, looking the picture of woe, and ready to shake hands effusively, and 
to kiss Mrs. Bolter against her will. 

Going out, doctor ? ” she said. 

“Yes, ma’am, for some days. 

“But you will come to my house first? there is an injured man 
there. He came and begged me to fetch you to him, for he could not 
come himself.” 

“A Malay?’’ 

“ Yes ; a native. And ho begged so hard that I was compelled to 
come.” 

“Just as I was going out, too,” muttered the doctor, pettishly ; but 
he never refused a call to duty, and hurrying out, he left the widow 
with his wife, while he went down to the well-appointed little house 
sleeping in the sunshine close to the river. 


196 


MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


As he drew near he saw, at a little distance, a scuffle going on 
amongst a party of Malays, one of whom seemed for a moment to be 
struggling against five or six others; but no outcry was made, and 
deeming it to be some rough play upon the part of the fishermen, he 
paid little heed to what followed, merely noting that the men hustled 
their companion into a boat and paddled away. 

The next minute he was at Mrs. Barlow’s house, where a swarthy- 
looking Malay presented himself and told his symptoms, which were 
of so simple a character that the doctor was able to prescribe, and 
then hurry back to send the medicine required. 

This last was received by the sick man from the doctor’s messenger ; 
and no sooner was he gone than it was observable that the invalid rose 
from the mat upon which he had lain. He laughingly stole off to the 
river-side, where he entered a sampan, and paddled away after his 
companions, one of whom had left him to personate the only messenger 
who had been able to reach the station, though only then to fail in 
eluding the keenness of those who watched every house, and who 
kept their eyes upon the doctor, when half an hour later, totally re- 
gardless of the heat of the sun, he embarked in a boat and was paddled 
up the river by a couple of men, the companions of former excursions, 
old friends, whom he knew he could trust. 

There were several boats lying lazily upon the water, with sleepy- 
looking Malays in each, and as the doctor’s swift little vessel pushed 
off, eyes that had looked sleepy before opened widely and watched his 
departure. 

“ Shall we follow ? ” said one man, in a low voice. 

“ No ; he goes to shoot birds. Let him be.” 

The sun poured down his rays like silver flames through the leaves 
of the cocoa-palms, and while the doctor’s boat grew smaller and 
smaller till it turned a bend in the stream, the occupants of the sam- 
pans lying so idly about the landing-stage exchanged glances from 
time to time, but seemed asleep whenever the owner of a white face 
drew near. 


CHAPTER L. 
wurad’s slave. 

It was with a feeling that something dreadful had happened that Helen 
opened her eyes and stared wildly about her. How long she had been 
insensible she could not tell, but her impression was that very few 
minutes had elapsed since she was struggling with her assailants. 

She had been roughly used she knew, for her arms felt wrenched 
and bruised, her head throbbed painfully, there was an acute smarting 
about her lips, and a peculiar acrid, pungent, bitter taste in her mouth, 
while when she placed her hand to her lips she withdrew it stained 
with blood. 

She shuddered and looked round at the Malay women, some of whom 


MUKAD’S SLAVE. 


197 


were standing, some squatted about upon the bamboo floor, watching 
her with a gratified smile in their faces, and one and all evidently with- 
out the slightest sympathy for her state, 

“ Wliat — what have you done ?” she panted, with anger now taking 
the place of fear. ** You shall all be punished — bitterly punished 
for this!” 

For answer there was a merry laugh, and the women chatted to each 
other ; but one of the girls who had been Helen’s attendant rose and 
left the room, to return in a few minutes wdth a large brass basin of 
clear cold water and a cotton cloth. 

Helen tried hard to check her sobs, and gladly availed herself of the 
opportunity to bathe her eyes, finding as she did so that one of her 
lips smarted and bled quite profusely ; there was a wretched sensation 
too about the lower part of her face, and her teeth ached violently, 

“They shall be bitterly punished for this!” she cried, furiously, 
“ What have they done ?” 

Then, like a flash, as she saw the girl who held the basin smile 
mockingly, she knew what had taken place, and with a piteous cry she 
placed her hands to her mouth, to find that her surmise W'as correct ; 
the second girl laughing heartily, and fetching the hand-glass to hold 
upon a level with the prisoner’s face. 

The cold wet dew gathered upon Helen’s brow as she gazed at the 
strange countenance before her. It was not that which she knew so 
well, and upon whose handsome features she had been w^ont to gaze 
with half-closed eyes and with a smile of satisfaction at its beauty ; for 
there before her was the face of a noble-looking Malay woman, between 
wliose swollen lips she could see the filed and blackened teeth considered 
so great a perfection to her toilet; and with a piteous cry Helen 
covered her eyes with her hands, shrank back upon her couch, and 
sobbed forth: 

“ WLat would he think of me now ?” 

Humbled as she was by the treatment she had received, and agitated 
by her position, Helen Perowne had enough of the old nature left to 
suffer terrribly upon every question relating to her personal appearance. 
It was a dreadful shock to find that she had been completely trans- 
formed, as it were, into a woman of the country — one of those upon 
whom she had been accustomed to look with such disdain; but the 
shock was surpassed by the sensation of misery to find that her self- 
worshipped beauty was gone, as it w'ere, for ever. Her greatest enemy 
could not have inflicted upon her a more cruel pang ; and one constantly- 
recurring question kept repeating itself : 

“What would he say to me now? ” — he; and it was not of Captain 
Hilton, her father, or any of her rejected lovers that she thought, but 
always of the Resident. What would Neil Harley think of her if he 
could see her distorted features ? He could not recognize her, of that 
she felt sure, and in her agony of mind a complete change took place in 
her feelings. But an hour ago she had watched window and door, 
listened to every sound, however slight, and interpreted it to mean 
the coming of help — of Neil Harley and her father to fetch her away. 
But how could she wish for them to come now ? Yv’hy should she be 


193 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


taken away ? Instead of Helen Perowne, the beauty of the station, they 
would find, and would not recognize, a swarthy native woman, whoso 
aspect would repel them, and they would be ready to doubt her word 
should she assert who she was. 

She was ready to pray now that no help might come — even that she 
might die. 

The women stole softly away, whispering to each other that she 
would soon come round ; and as the suffering girl crouched there in her 
abasement her anguish did not grow less poignant, and she found her- 
self, in spite of the repugnance she felt at the idea of being seen, some- 
how looking once more to Neil Harley for help. She recalled how she 
had laughed at his pretensions, even to treating them with indignity, 
and turning upon him a resentful stare; how, too, tried to pique him 
by laughing and flirting directly with some favour^ lover. But what 
had followed ? He had only smilingly told her that he was in nowise 
jealous, and that she would come to him with open arms aflast. 

She recalled, as she sat thinking there, how she had turned from him 
with a haughty feeling of annoyance ; while now that she was so cruelly 
abased he seemed to be her only hope, the one to whose strong arm she 
was forced to look for aid ; and with a bitter wail of misery, as she 
thought of him once more, in spite of her efforts to drive away the fancy, 
she kept on asking herself those ever-recurring questions, what would 
he think of her — what would he say ? 

“ I am too cruelly punished,” she moaned to herself, and for the next 
hour or so she was completely prostrated both in body and mind. 
For her position was one that must have daunted the stoutest-hearted 
woman. She coxild not hope that, now she had been so degraded, if 
seen, any Englishman would recognize her and so give notice of her 
whereabouts, while the insolent Rajah might arrive at any moment to 
triumph over the downfall of the proud beauty of the station. 

But somehow, in spite of her peril, her thoughts wandered from 
the Rajah,and kept centering themselves upon that question of what Neil 
Harley would think and say, if ever he should look again upon her 
terribly-disfigured face. 

By degrees her sobs grew less painful, and she lay back with her face 
still hidden in her hands, thinking of the harsh file that had been used 
to her beautiful teeth, and the powerful stain that had been applied, 
and wondering why she had not foreseen, after the dyeing of her face, 
that a further attempt would be made to liken her to the native women. 
She realized, too, now how strong was the Malay nature in cunning, 
for their proceedings would more effectually secure her from being found 
than concealment in the deepest recesses of the jungle. In fact, though 
she kept her eyes closed, ever staring, as it were straight out of the 
darkness, was the swarthy distorted countenance she had seen in the 
glass, with its filed and blackened teeth ; and as this was burned into 
her brain, she felt that so long as speech was denied her she might be 
kept even in the native town close to her friends, none of whom would 
recognize in her the Helen Perowne they sought. 

She knew that it was a cunningly-devised and clever plan for 
destroying her identity, and by it she felt, as she shuddered, she had 


MUKAD’S SLAVE. 


199 


become as it wore one of the Kajah's slaves — one of the wretched, 
hopeless women branded as his like so many cattle, and in her anguish 
the^ hot blinding tears gathered once more as she realized the degra- 
dation of her position, and her spirits sank lower and lower as she once 
more lay back and wept. ’ 

At length, after how long a time she could not tell, she was aroused 
by one of her Malay attendants who seemed to be somewhat moved by 
her distress. This, the gentler of the two, brought a little vessel of 
perfumed water, and bending over tho sobbing prisoner, she gently 
removed her hands, and after a little resistance succeeded in bathing her 
burning eyes and stinging lips, talking to her soothingly the while in 
Malay, a good portion of which Helen, w'hose senses w'cre sharpened 
by her position, contrived to understand. 

“ Why do you cry, dear said the girl, tenderly. “ I ought not to 
like you, but you are so handsome, and in such trouble, that I feel 
sorry. But why do you cry ? You cannot tell how you are improved. 
You were dreadful before with your English look — your sickly pale 
face, your white teeth and poor thin lips. Now you are lovely and 
our people would worship 3^011 with your soft brown skin and shining 
dark teeth. The filing has made your poor thin lips grow large and 
fresh as they should be. Look ; they are nearly as big and full as mine. 
He will love you more and more now, and though I laughed when I 
saw you first, and thought you a poor weak white thing, now I begin 
to feel afraid and jealous and to hate you for coming here.” 

As Helen caught the meaning of these words, fully realizing what 
was meant, and heard her companion speak of someone w'ho would be 
gratified by her changed appearance, a shiver of dread ran through her, 
and she lay back staring wildly at the speaker. 

“ Jealousy — hate me,” thought Helen. “ Yes ; she talked of hating 
me.” 

A ray of hope shot through the darkness here. 

“ She cannot like to have me here, and she would be glad to see me 
gone. What am I,” she cried, mentally, “ to crouch here in this 
pitiful way, weeping and bewailing my misfortunes, asking myself what 
those who love me will think and say ? Have I been such a w-retched 
handsome doll all my life, that now 1 am cast upon m3’self for pro- 
tection my actions are those of a child ? ” 

A change was coming over Helen Perowne, forced by the terrible 
position in which she was placed, and roused now in spirit, she thought 
more and more deeply of all this, till it seemed to her that the Majay 
girl had struck the ke3mote of her future action, and that after feeling 
her way cautiously she had but to appeal to this attendant for her aid, 
and she would win her goodwill in an attempt to escape. 

The day wore on, and in spite of herself the weariness produced by 
exhaustion brought on a sensation of drowsiness that Helen could not 
overcome. One minute she had determined that she would not yield to 
sleep, the next she was starting with a cry of fear from a deep slumber 
which had surprised her almost as she thought. 

The Malay girl smiled, laid her cool hand upon her forehead, and 
kissed her very tenderly — so tenderly tliat, with a sob, proud disdainful 


200 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Helen Perowne caught the brown hand in hers, and laid it upon her 
throbbing breast. 

Again the drowsy sensation began to master her, and she started up 
with a face distorted, fleeing as she believed from some terrible danger. 
The girl spoke a few soothing words, and gazed so kindly in the 
prisoner’s eyes, that Helen sank back once more, yielding to the power- 
ful influence that came upon her, and almost the next moment she was 
sleeping deeply, quite exhausted by what she had suffered. 

The Malay girl bent over her for a few minutes, and then softly 
withdrew her hand from between Helen’s to follow her companion to 
the window, where she was sitting droning over some native ditty 
about meeting her love beneath the moonbeams among the waving 
rice, and then they sat chatting and laughing together in a low tone. 
Now they discussed Helen’s features, then her want of courage, and 
lastly, in a dull indifferent way, they began to wonder whether their 
lord would be satisfied with what they had done, and when he was 
likely to come. 


CHAPTEH LI. 

THE INCUB MAIDA. AT HOME. 

“ An, Princess,” cried Hilton, flushing with pleasure as he saw help 
and liberty shining as it were in the face of a friend, whose extended 
hand he took, “ this is kind of you indeed. You had heard, then, of 
the outrage of these Malay people, and have come to have us freed.” 

“Outrage!” cried the Princess, indignantly. “ Who has dared to 
hurt you ?” 

“ That we do not know,” cried Hilton, eagerly. “ You must dis- 
cover that. I am glad to see you indeed.” 

“ And I you,” she replied, smiling in the young officer’s face, as he 
retained her hand. “Ah, Mr. Chumbley,” she continued, extending 
her left. “lam very pleased to meet you once again.” 

Chumbley shook the hand stretched out to him, and smiled as ho 
looked curiously at their visitor, for, slow of movement as he was, he 
was quick of apprehension, and he did not place his companion’s in- 
terpretation upon the meeting. 

“ I hope you were not hurt, Mr. Chumbley,” she said. 

“ Oh, but we were,” cried Hilton, quickly, and before his friend 
could speak. “ We were seized and dragged here by a pack of scoun- 
drels who did not spare us much.” 

“ Ah, yes, I have just come,” she said. “ I heard that you both 
fought very hard, like the brave, strong Englishmen you are, and some 
of the men were hurt, and badly too.” 

** Chumbley there did his best,” said Hilton, “ of course ; but by 
whose orders was this done ? You can tell me, I hope.” 

“Yes,” drawled Chumbley drily, “the Princess can tell you, I 
should say.” 

“Yes,” said the Princess, smiling from one to the other. “You 


THE INCHE MAIDA AT HOME. 


201 


uere brought here to this my hunting home in the jungle by my orders, 
but no violence was to be used.” 

“ Ey your orders ! ” cried Hilton, dropping her hand as if it had 
burned him, and falling back a step, with the anger flashing from his 
eyes, 

“The Princess tells you it is her hunting-box,” drawled Chumbley 
drily ; “ she evidently meant to give us a surprise.” 

“Be silent, Chumbley,” said Hilton indignantly. 

“ Her highness was afraid that we might not get leave of absence, 
or that we should decline to come,” continued Chumbley, 

“ Oh, this is too much ! ” cried blilton. 

“ Do not be angry,” said the Princess, speaking in a low, sweet tone, 
full of pleading tenderness. “ I know it seems strange to you English 
people, but our ways are different to yours.” 

“ Well, yes: a little,” said Chumbley, who was laughing in a quiet 
internal way, “ You have studied some of our etiquette, but you did 
not find this sort of thing.” 

“ Will you be silent, Chumbley ? ” thundered Hilton indignantly. 

“ Did you not hear me?” said the Princess; and Chumbley noted 
that there was a very tender look in her eyes as she advanced and laid 
her hand upon Hilton’s arm. “ I asked you not to be angry with me.” 

“ Angry ?” cried Hilton fiercely. “Angry? Why, madam, this 
is the act of some mad savage, and you professed to be a civilized 
friend ! ” 

“It is the act, sir, of a princess!” said the Inche Maida with 
dignity. “ One who is as a queen among her people ! ” 

“And do you profess, madam, to be a friend of the English ? ** 

“ Yes, Captain Hilton, I have sought to be as far as I could.” 

“ Will you not sit down ? ” said Chumbley, pointing to the heap of 
cushions close at hand. 

“Not while my guests are standing,” she said, with dignity. “ Are 
you going to scold me and be angry too, Mr. Chumbley ? ” she said, 
with a smile. 

“ Englishmen boast of being fair,” he replied. “ If I scold it shall 
bo when my friend has done.” 

“ Oh ! I have done for the present ! said Hilton, with a mocking 
laugh. “Pray go on.” 

“I have not much to say,” said Chumbley slowly; “only that it 
seems rather a determined way of inviting a couple of fellows to your 
country home. Princess. It has its good points though, for you can 
always make sure of the number you want to have.” 

The Princess inclined her head as if in acquiescence, and then looked 
pleadingly at Hilton, whose brow displayed an angry frown, and who 
had begun to pace the room, making the bamboo latlis bend and creak 
beneath his weight. 

“ I knew she had taken a fancy to him,” said Chumbley to himself, 
as in his quiet dry way he noted what was going on ; “ but I never 
could have believed in this. I suppose I was caught and brought to 
play propriety, and to act as witness to the native ceremony, for she’ll 
marry Hilton as sure as he’s alive.” 


202 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Of course you will give orders at once for a boat to be in readiness 
to take us back ? ” said Hilton haughtily. 

“ No,” said the Princess, smiling, “ I shall not. Surely you are not 
tired of my hospitality quite so soon ? ” 

You are trifling, madam,” said Hilton, “and it is time this childish 
farce was brought to an end. I insist upon your ordering a boat to be 
in readiness at once.” 

“I am sorry I cannot oblige you, Caplain Hilton,” said the lady 
gloomily. 

“Whv have you done this?” he cried. “Why are we brought 
here ? ”“ 

“ Why have I had you brought here ? ” said the Princess in a low, 
musical voice. “ Shall I tell you ? ” 

“ If you wish to,” said Hilton carelessly. 

The Inche Maida’s eyes flashed at his indifferent manner. 

“ If I were one of my women,” she said, “ I could not tell you. If I 
were only my own simple woman-self I could not tell you for the 
shame that I should feel. But I am a chief, and as a chief I can speak. 
I have the right to choose whom I would have for partner of my life, 
and I have chosen you.” 

“Chosen me?” cried Hilton, with a look of disgust at the tall, 
handsome woman before him. 

“Yes; because I love you,” she replied. “He knows that I love 
you. I read it weeks ago in his eyes.” 

“ Have you been a partner to this accursed outrage, Chumbley ? ” 
cried Hilton fiercely. 

“ No, dear boy ; not to, I’m a partner in it, ’ said Chumbley, coolly. 
“ Wise question that of yours. Was it likely ? ” 

“No,” said the Princess, “he did not know; but you were great 
friends and companions, and I brought you both. I love you.” 

He looked at her indignantly. 

“ I like your friend,” she continued, turning and smiling at 
Chumbley, he is so good-natured and big, and manly, and strong. 1 
always feel as if he would be a man whom I could trust.” 

She held out her soft, shapely hand to him, and, acting on the impulse 
of the moment, Chumbley took it in his, pressed it warmly, and then 
raised it to his lips before it was withdrawn. 

Hilton stamped his foot upon the bamboo floor, and then burst into 
a derisive laugh. 

“ Is this real, Chumbley ? ” he cried, “ or is it part of a play ? ” 

“I know what you mean by part of a play,’^ cried the Princess, 
whose eyes began to flash as she felt the sting of Hilton’s words. “ It 
is no false make-believe, but real. I told you without shame, as a 
chief, that I love you, and that is why I brought you here.” 

“ I am greatly honoured by your attention, madam,” said Hilton, 
mockingly. 

“ Listen to me,” cried the Princess, “ while I remind you that I am 
a poor oppressed woman. I have been trampled upon by my enemies, 
because I am a woman. I am constantly plundered ; my people are 
cruelly treated ; and soon I shall be a princess no longer, for my people 


THE INCHE MAIDA AT HOME. 


203 


will say that 1 am no mother and protector to them, and they will 
leave me.’ 

“And pray, madam, what is this to me?” said Hilton, coldly. 
“ Do you forget that I have heard all this before ? ” 

“What is it to you?” said the Inche Maida, drawing herself 
up, and speaking fiercely now. “ Did I not tell you that I loved 
YOU ? From the first day I saw you I J^-ed you, and said you should 
be my lord.” 

“’Pon my honour, Chumbley,” cried Hilton, “ this is too ridiculous ! ” 
and he looked his indignation. “ Why, what a handsome fellow I must 
be. Are we going back into the regions of romance ? ” 

“ Mind w'hat yoi>^are saying,” said Chumbley, quietly, as he saw a 
fierce look of anger in the Inche Maida’s eyes, lit by the mocking, con- 
temptuous manner in which Hilton listened to her words. 

“ Mind what I am saying ? I have no patience,” he cried. “ Pray,” 
he continued, turning to the Princess with a sneering laugh, “does 
your ladyship intend to marry me now you have carried mo off ? ” 

The Princess did not speak. 

“ Ey Jupiter I Chumbley,” cried Hilton, bursting into a forced 
laugh, “ it must be leap year. I had forgotten it, and the ladies are 
having it all their own way. May I ask again,” he cried, “ does your 
ladyship intend to marry me ? ” 

‘ ‘ Yes,” she replied, quietly, and in a slow, decided way, “ I do. Why 
do you mock at me ? Is it such a hard fate to be my husband — my 
prince — when I say to you — see how I and my people suffer ? You 
are a warrior — a captain— who can fight, and lead, and train men to 
defend themselves, a few against crowds. Here is my home — here are 
my lands ; take all — take me and my people. Be rajah, and rule over 
us all. You shall have my wealth, and the rich things my people will 
bring you ; but train them to fight so that they can protect our lands 
and make our enemies hold us in respect and fear. They will shrink 
away then like the cowards they are, as soon as they know that it is 
a prince who rules, and no longer a weak woman.** 

“ Why don’t you join me in laughing at all this. Chum, old fellow ? ” 
cried Hilton, who seemed bitter and soured by the treatment he had 
received from Helen. 

“I don’t see anything to laugh at,” said Chumbley, sturdily, as he 
watched his companions intently. 

“No ; why does he laugh ? ’’cried the Inche Maida, whose fierce dark 
eyes now grew soft with tears. 

“ I laugh,” cried Hilton, angrily, “ because your proposals are absurd. 
There must be an end to all this. Let me and my friend go aw'ay at 
once.” 

‘ ‘ And my people — what of them — what of mine enemies ? ” said the 
Inche Maida, almost imploringly. 

“ You appealed to our Government, madam, and they regretted that 
they could not interfere,” said Hilton. “lam honoured by your pro- 
posals, but I must say the same.” 

“ I do not understand quite everything you say,” she replied ; “ but 
do not mock me. I can bear everything but that. Think of what I 


201 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


have said, and forgive me if I have been too rough -w^itli you, for re- 
member, if I had said ‘ Come to me,’ you -would not have come.” 

“ No,” said Hilton, smiling, “ I should not. 

** You see you drove me to do this thing,” said the Princess, eagerly, 
** and it has made your -vv'rath hot against me ; but I ask you to pardon 
me, my lord. See, I kneel to you for forgiveness. Can I be more 
humble ? ” 

“ Will you be good enough to rise, madam,” said Hilton, -u'ho -was 
beginning to regret his former mocking -way, no-vv he sa-w the Inche 
Maida’s earnestness and trust in him ; and he raised her by her hands, 
which clung to his entreatingly. 

“ Shall I retire somewhere else ? ” said Chumbley, in a manner that 
might have been taken for either serious or mocking. 

“ For Heaven’s sake, no, man ! ” cried Hilton ; “stay where you 
are. Madam, will you be good enough to take a seat ! There, that is 
better,” he said, seating himself near her, as, in obedience to his request, 
she sank upon the cushions. 

“ I will do whatever you wish,” she said, humbly. 

“ Then please remember, madam,” continued Hilton, “ that you are 
almost an English lady, and surely you know enough of our ways to 
realize that you have been guilty of a most foolish act.” 

“ I was driven to act as I did,” she said, softly. “ You know how 
I implored for help.” 

“ Yes, I know that,” said Hilton, speaking now in a tone of gentle- 
manly consideration for one whom he looked upon as weak and igno- 
rant. “lam sorry you were not assisted ; but now that you have had 
time to realize our positions, I must tell you that what you propose is 
impossible.” 

The Princess, who had been seated in a humble, supplicating atti- 
tude, no sooner heard this last word than she sprang to her feet. 

“ It is not impossible ! ” she cried fiercely ; and her eyes flashed with 
anger as she drew herself up to her full height. 

“I am compelled to contradict you, madam,” said Hilton, also 
rising ; “and to tell you that, even were I disposed to accept your 
strange offer, I could not, for I am an officer in the service of her 
Majesty the Queen, and I could not leave my duties, even at your 
command.” 

“ But you would have more and greater duties here,” cried the Prin- 
cess. “ Your people wish to improve ours. Come, then, and be chief 
and rajah over my children.” 

“ I tell you, madam, it is impossible,” said Hilton, coldly. 

“I say it is not impossible,” she retorted, proudly. “Did not a 
brave Englishman become a rajah in Borneo, where they are people 
similar to ours ? and is not the name of Hajah Brooke, of Sarawak, 
held in veneration to this day ? ” 

Hilton uttered an impatient ejaculation, and glanced at Chumbley 
for help ; but that gentleman was balancing himself upon his toes and 
gazing at the Princess. 

“ I was angry a minute since,” she said, smiling a very sweet smile, 
and she looked a very Cleopatra of the jungle. “ lifou will not say 


OUR POSITION IS ABSURD/* 


205 


r.o,” sho continued, appealing to her prisoner. *‘I am a Princess, and 
once more I say boldly, what none of my people dare confess for very 
shame, I love yon. Captain Hilton, and once again I ask yon to mako 
me yonr wife. Listen ; you do not know how great and happy your 
life shall be, for your wishes shall be all obeyed, and ” 

“Pray listen to me madam !” cried Hilton, sternly, “yon must 
know that this cannot be. But let us part friends, and no punishment 
shall follow this foolish escapade. So at once pray order your people 
to prepare a boat, that I and my friend may go.” 

He turned now to Chumbley, w^ho had thrust his hands down as far 
as possible into his pockets, and stood looking very stern and cold, bixt 
evidently pondering deeply upon all that had been said. 

The Princess clenched her hands, and stood there with flashing eyes, 
gazing from one to the other, and for some moments it seemed as if 
she could not speak. 

“ No,” she cried at last, in a short angry voice, “ do Iboat shall take 
yon back I ” 

“Then we must go back without,” said Hilton, firmly. Now, 
Chumbley, this folly has gone too far. Come quickly, and use force 
if we are driven to it by this foolish woman's acts ! ” 

As he spoke he moved towards the door, and laying his hand upon 
the latch, he threw it open so that it struck loudly against the bamboo 
wall. 


CHAPTER LII. 

OUR POSITIOI? IS ABSURD.” 

As the door flew open, Hilton found himself confronted by a dozen 
spearmen ; and he would have still advanced, had not Chumbley held 
him back. 

“You forgot that you were a prisoner,” said the Princess, quietly, 
but with a triumphant look in her eyes. “There are fifty more bravo 
men beyond those and they would kill you at a word from me.” ^ 

“ And that word you would not speak,” said Hilton, smiling in her 
face. 

“ Why not ? ” she cried, defiantly. 

“For several reasons,” he said, quietly. “ First, because I am an 
officer of the Queen of England, madam.” 

“ I am queen here,” she retorted, “ What is yoiir queen to mo ? 

“Another reason is that you would not have me killed,” he said 
lightly; and he evaded Chumbley's touch, and stepped through the 
door ; but six razor-keen spear-points were presented so suddenly at 
his breast, that, brave as he was, Hilton involuntarily started back, and 
to his great annoyance the Princess smiled mockingly in turn. 

Captain Hilton was a soldier, and ready to risk his life when need 
should be ; but he felt that there were limits even to the valour a man 


206 


3IAID’S MISCHIEF. 


should show, and this was evidently a time to make a movement towards 
the rear. 

He turned to Chumbley, to find that he had not moved, but was lean- 
ing with his arms folded across his broad chest, against the ■wooden 
framework of the cane- woven wall, and he looked his companion steadily 
in the face. 

“ Well,” exclaimed Hilton, angrily, as he sought some object upon 
which to vent the spleen rising within his breast ; and his friend being 
the nearest object, he received the verbal blows. “ Why don’t you 
come and face these scoundrels with me ? Are you afraid ? ” 

“ Eh? Afraid?” said Chumbley, rousing himself from his dreamy 
state. “No, I don’t think I was, old fellow. I was wondering 
whether we were British officers in a Malay jungle facing realities, or 
the same two fellows fresh from dining at the club, turned into a 
couple of stalls at a theatre and watching the progress of some drama 
of a certain type.” 

“ Then wake up to the fact that it is reality ! ” cried Hilton sharply, 
“ and help me to act, unless you want to stay here for life.” 

“All right, dear boy,” said Chumbley, resuming his drawling style, 
“ Only, what are we to do ? I’m ready for anything almost, but I’m 
not going to run my noble chest against those fellows* spears. Where’s 
the good ? ” 

“ Good ? ’’cried Hilton, angrily ; “ are we to stop here and be a pair 
of slaves ? ” 

“ No ; only it’s as well to wait. There are times to fight, and there 
are times when it’s as well to draw off your forces, even if the London 
papers do revile and talk of want of pluck. You see, a fellow can’t 
tight in a case of this sort. It’s ridiculous ! *’ 

“ Bidiculous indeed ! ” cried Hilton ; as, with the petulance of a boy, 
he seized the door, and slammed it in the face of the Malays. 

“Exactly,” drawled Chumbley, glancing at the Princess, who was 
•watching them from the other end of the room. “ You see, Warner or 
Terriss on the Adelphi stage would have knocked all those fellows over 
like skittles, or skewered them all upon one spear like a row of larks ; 
but that’s only done upon the boards ; a fellow can’t play like that in 
common life.” 

“Is there much more of this, Chumbley? ” said Hilton, with mock 
deference. 

“Not a great deal, old man,” said the big fellow, coolly ignoring his 
friend’s sarcastic manner. “I was only going to say — and I hope her 
majesty Queen Cleopatra can’t hear me — that the only course open to 
us seems to be to wait our chance and bolt ; and I’ll be blest if I run, 
or try to run, through this sweltering jungle to save myself or anybody 
else. If you’ll have me carried down to the river and pitched in, 1 
don’t mind trying to swim.” 

“ Ha — ha — ha— ha — ha ! Ha — ha — ha — ha — ha — ha — ha ! ” 

A merry, almost girlish laugh rang out ; and as the two officers 
turned sharply, it -w'as to see that the Inche Maida’s countenance had 
lost its look of annoyance, and was full of mirth, for she had heard 
every word that Chumbley had spoken. 


OUR POSITION IS ABSURD ” 


207 


“Tchali!* ejaculated Hilton ; “our position is growing more and 
more absurd ! ” 

“ You are a very droll man,” said the Princess, turning to Chumb- 
ley. ‘‘You make me laugh by your way of speaking; but you are 
very wise and clever all the same. You know that you could not get 
away ; so you are ready to wait patiently to see what comes. You are 
quite right, Mr. Chumbley, and I like you more and more, and will 
treat you well.” 

“ That’s very kind of you. Princess,” said Chumbley, slowly ; “and 
I must say that I heard what you said before about me ; but speaking 
like a persecuted maiden in the ancient castle of some baron bold, will 
you excuse me if I say your previous remarks are insufficient, and I 
should be glad to know why the dickens you brought me here when 
you wanted him ? ” 

‘ You make such long speeches,” cried the Inche Maida, “ and you 
speak so slowly, that you puzzle me. I never know whether you are 
serious or laughing at me.” 

“ Oh, I am not laughing,” said Chumbley, slowly. 

“Then do not ask,” said the Princess, shortly. “You are my 
prisoners, and must submit.” 

“For the present, madam,” said Hilton, with a return of his anger ; 
“bat if you will take my advice, you will end this sorry farce at 
once. You will regret it if you stop too long, and find your palm-tree 
palace ” 

“ It is no palace,” said the Princess, quietly, “ only a simple house.” 

“ Surrounded by a company of our troops, and burned to the ground.” 

The Princess laughed. 

“ I understand you,” she said, nodding her head ; “ but that will not 
be. You English are strong and have great weapons that would 
destroy us at a touch. We have but our spears and krisses, so we trust 
to our wisdom to help us out, do you see.” 

“ I think I know what you mean,” said Chumbley, quietly. 

“ Yes,” continued the Princess, “ you are right ; your soldiers would 
soon burn down my place and kill my people to get you back ; but they 
would have first to find us out. Do you know where you are ? ” 

Hilton glanced at the open window, to see through the lattice-work 
of bamboo the deep green of the impenetrable jungle. 

“ Yes,” she continued, smiling at the look which came upon the 
young officer’s face ; “ we bring cunning to fight upon our side. You 
see that you are in the jungle ; and I tell you that there is but one 
narrow path to this place, and my people guard it night and day.” 

“ When they are not asleep,” muttei’ed Chumbley. 

“ I made this place,” she said, “ to flee to when my enemies should 
come. Here I am safe, and here, too, you are safe, for none but my 
most trusted people know the way. ” 

“Pleasant news this, old fellow,” said Chumbley. 

“ Pleasant ! ” cried Hilton ; “ but she shall smart for it. She does 
not think of what will be the result.” 

The Inche Maida frowned as she saw his angry looks and heard his 
words. 


14 


208 


02^E MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“Well, old fello'vr,” said Chumbley ; “it seems to me that -we are 
wasting time.” 

“What ! are you prepared to make a dash for it ? ” cried Hilton. 

“ Hot I. I mean wasting time in talking like this. I’m sorry for 
yon, old fellow — very sorry for you ; but it’s very hot and tiring this 
standing about. Hadn’t we better make the best of it ? ” 

“ Best of it ! ” cried Hilton, who now obstinately refused to glaneo 
at the author of their trouble, and kept pacing up and down like a 
caged beast. “ Are you mad ? ” 

“ Very,” whispered Chumbley ; “ but one can’t pitch into a woman. 
She fights with cunning, so must we, and wait for our chance to 
escape. There, it is of no use to chafe. Let’s be thankful that matters 
are no worse.” 

“ Worse ! ” cried Hilton, passionately, “ they could not bo worse ;** 
and he spoke loudly enough for the Princess to hear his words. 

“ There — there, old fellow, calm down,” drawled Chumbley. “ Make 
the best of it till her ladyship here has grown tired of her two caged 
birds, and has let us out. We are prisoners, I suppose. Princess ? ” he 
said, aloud. 

“ Prisoners or visitors, which you please,. Mr. Chumbley,” she said, 
smiling. “ Let it be visitors, for though Captain Hilton has said such 
cruel things — see, I am not angered, but quite calm. You are my 
visitors, then ; but you cannot get away until I give the word.” 

“ Or our people fetch us,” said Chumbley, throwing himself upon 
one of the divans with a sigh of relief, for the Inche Maida had pointed 
to the seat. 

“ They will not come to fetch you,” said the Princess, smiling. 

“ Why not ? ” said Hilton, sharply. “ I tell you they will search 
till we are found, and then you destroy yourself by having us here.” 

“Yes,” said the Princess, with her eyes half closed; “they will 
search. They have searched, and have given it up. They found a 
small boat overset upon a bank of sand ; part of your clothes were in 
it, and they think you were both drowned.” 

“ Confusion ! ” cried Hilton, fiercely. 

“ You have a woman to fight with,” said the Princess, smiling, “ and 
I have taken my steps so well that no one will seek you here. I told 
my people to bring you both, and they obeyed. They would have 
sooner died than failed.” 

“Tell me more,” said Chumbley, quickly. “Have you seen Mr. 
Harley?” 

“ I will tell you nothing,” said the Princess, “ till you are both my 
friends. There, I must leave you now. Promise me you will be 
patient, and not so foolish as to try to escape and fight. It would be 
horrible to me if you or any of my people should bo hurt in some mad 
attempt. Promise me you will be patient and not try.” 

“Not I,” said Chumbley, laughing. “I shall try to escape, and so 
will he.” 

“ Then you are wicked and foolish ! ” cried the Inche Maida, angrily. 

“Both, I’m afraid,” said Chumbley. “I always was; but may 1 
make a request as a prisoner P ”• 


“ OUR POSITION IS ABSURD." , 


209 


“ As a visitor, yes,” said the Princess, smiling, 

“ May I ask, then, if you propose to gild the bars of our cage ? ” 

*‘I do not understand,” she replied, gazing at him earnestly. 

“ I mean that it is very hot. May I have a cool drink of some kind ; 
and do you allow smoking in the drawing-room ? ” 

The Princess smiled, and in what Chumbley afterwards called the 
Arabian Nights style, clapped her hands, when a couple of Malay slave- 
girls ran in, received their orders, and hurried out again, while their 
mistress walked to the window, as she had done moro,than once 
before, apparently with the idea of giving her prisoners an opportunity 
to converse and debate their position. 

‘‘ Well, Hilton, old man, what do you think of this ? ” said Chumbley, 
smiling. “ Wo Europeans have gone ahead, and got steam, and elec- 
tricity, and all the luxuries of civilization, as the fine writers call it, 
while the East has stopped just where it was, and we might be Ali 
Baba’s Brothers, or the One-eyed Calender, or some other of those 
Arabian Night cock-o’-waxes here amongst all these slaves and spear- 
men. I say, I think I shall wite a book about it — ‘The adventures 
of two officers taken prisoners by a wicked queen.’ ” 

“ Chumbley,” retorted Hilton, “ you used to have one good quality.” 
“ Had I ? What was that, old man ? ” 

“ You were a fellow who didn’t talk much,” said Hilton ; “ but now 
your tongue goes like a woman’s, and you are a positive nuisance.” 

“ Thankye, old fellow. But you ought not to grumble, seeing how 
impressionable you have of late proved to the prattling of a woman’s 
tongue.” 

“ The Inehe Maida’s ? ” said Hilton, in a low voice. 

“Weil no: not exactly hers, dear boy. But I say, Hilton, she is a 
woman and a lady; don’t say hard things to her.” 

“ Hard things ? ” cried Hilton, angrily. “ Come, I like that ! Hang 
it, man, after this outrage she ought to be shut up in a lunatic 
asylum ! ” 

“ Humph !” said Chumbley, slowly. “I don’t know. They say 
love is a sort of lunacy, and people do strange things who get the 
disease badly. You’ve been an awful idiot lately ! ” 

“ Chumbley, do you want me to strike you ? ” cried Hilton, fiercely. 
“No, dear boy," drawled his friend; “ but you can give me a punch 
if it will do you good. I shan’t hit you again.” 

“ Bah ! ” ejaculated Hilton. “ There’s no qiiarrelling with you! ” 

“ Not a bit of it, dear boy ; but as I was saying, seeing what stupid 

things you did about ” 

“ Chumbley ! ” 

“All right: I wasn’t going to mention her name. I say, seeing 
what stupid things you did, it was not surprising that a lady in love 

with your noble features and Apollo-like form ” 

“ I declare I shall forget myself directly ! " cried Hilton, between 
his teeth. 

“ No : don’t old fellow ; but you might let me finish my speech. It 
isn’t often I’m flush of words, and when I am you check me. I say once 
more it wajg not so very surprising that her ladyship hero should set a 


210 


ONE SIAID’S MISCHIEF. 


trap for you, catch you, and Trant to persuade you to accept her very 
eligible offers. There, sit do'wn, man, and make the best of it 1 Stop 
that irritating -walk of yours ! You are like a human pendulum ! ” ^ 

“ Idiot ! ” muttered Hilton, between his teeth, glancing at the Prin- 
cess’s back, though, as she leaned in a graceful attitude against the 
window, with her arm through the bamboo bars. 

“ Calling names ! ” said Chumbley, coolly. “ Imitation’s the sin- 
cerest form of flattery. ‘Will you stop that wolf-in-a-cage walk ? ” 

» Nol” 

‘ ‘ Then you’re a Zoological Gardens beast ! I say, why don’t you utter 
a short howl every time you turn ? ” 

“ If you cannot talk sensibly, Chumbley, pray be silent ! ” said Hil- 
ton, in a low, angry whisper. “You are like a big boy more than a 
man ! ” 

“Go on, old fellow!” said Chumbley, coolly. “If ever I marry, 
which isn’t. likely, I daresay I shall have a woman with a tongue like 
an arrow. What a chance she will have to shoot sharp words at my 
thick hide ! ” 

“ Will you talk sense for a few moments before this woman goes ? ” 

“ Lady.” 

“Well, lady, then 1 I want to try and devise some plan for getting 
away.” 

“ What’s the hurry ? ” said Chumbley. “ We’re caught and caged, 
and I have always noticed that the birds that are trapped and caged are 
of two kinds.” 

“ Is there much of this moral sermon to come ? ” 

“No,” said Chumbley, good-humouredly, “not much. It seems 
tiresome to you because you are standing. Sit down, man, and listen. 
I feel quite like an Eastern speaker of parables. It is the atmosphere, 1 
suppose. I was saying that the birds that are caught are of two kinds — 
those that take it coolly and those that don’t. Those that don’t keep 
on beating their breasts against the bars, and knocking their feathers 
off in the most insane way, till they die, looking exceedingly bare and 
uncomfortable ; while those that take it coolly sit upon the perches, 
set up their feathers till they look nice and plump, and keep on saying 
‘ cJdsvnck* except when they stop to eat their seed.” 

“And, most profound moralist, the restless, brave-hearted birds that 
breast the bars are the truest,” cried Hilton. “ I would not be so spirit- 
less and craven for worlds.” 

“Stuff!” said Chumbley.^ “Nobody’s going to wring your neck 
and put you in a pie ; then it would be uncomfortable. The Princess 
only wants you to sing. I say, I think I shall ask her if she means to 
give us the seed that is becoming necessary in the shape of dinner. 

The Inche Maida turned round. 

“I could not help being a listener, Mr. Chumbley,” she said, quietly ; 
and surely you did not suppose that you could both talk like that un- 
heard. Now let me speak before I go.” 

Chumbley bowed, and Hilton folded his arms, leaning against the 
wall, while his friend slowly rose, and once more offered the Princess a 
seat. 


“OUR POSITION IS ABSURD.” 


211 


“No!” she cried, angrily. “I can only sit with my friends, and 
yon persist in treating me as an enemy. As Captain Hilton’s friend, I 
ask pardon for the roughness of my people. Can I do more ? ” 

“ Well, yes,” said Chumbley; “after we have granted your pardon, 
yon can set us free ! ” 

“ That I shall not do ! ” she cried, with her eyes flashing. 

“Not now. Princess,” said Chumbley, speaking calmly, seriously and 
well ; “ but after a little reflection. You do not realize the power of 
England, madam. You do not know what our Government will always 
do to maintain the honour and prestige of our nation.” 

“ No,” she said, scornfully, “I do not.” 

“ Let me tell you then,” said Chumbley, with a return of his dry, 
sarcastic manner ; “I am of no consequence whatever as compared to 
our handsome young captain there.” 

“ I think you a ten times better man, and one hundred times as much 
a gentleman,” cried the Princess, hotly ; and her eyes flashed indignation 
at them both. 

“ Oh, no,” said Chumbley ; “ you are angry and indignant, and you 
forget that we are, too. How can we bo pleased that you have so 
roughly brought us here ? ” 

“ But you ought to be, and very proud,” she cried, sharply. 

“ Well, we will not argue that,” said Chumbley ; “ but I w'ished to 
tell you that you must think this over carefully and well. Insignificant 
as we two men may be, it touches England’s honour that a Malay ruler 
should seize us and make us prisonei’s.” 

“ I care not,” she retorted. “ I have thought it over well.” 

“ I suppose so, madam,” said Chumbley ; but let me tell you that 
England will not let us stay here your prisoners ; sooner than let 
you triumph she would send an army to search for and take us 
back.” 

“ And I tell you,” cried the Princess, fiercely, “ that I have thought 
well over all this, and have made such plans, that even if your people 
did not think you dead, they would not find you. I am queen with my 
people, and 1 will not be beaten when I undertake a task. If they 
should learn that you were here, and come to shoot and burn, wo would 
flee into the jungle.” 

“Where they would hunt you out. Princess, cost what it might,’* 
said Chumbley. 

“ Let them,” said the Inche Maida, with her eyes flashing, and looking 
very queenly as she spoke. “ They are big and strong, and they have 
many men. They would surround us then, and think to take us and 
drag you away ; but they do not know our people yet — they do not 
know what a Malay Princess would do. Mr. Chumbley,” she said, 
speaking to him, but gazing at Hilton as she spoke, “we Malays are 
gentle and calm, but we have angry passions. If you rouse the hot blood 
within us, it becomes fierce and hotter still. Don’t think that I shall 
not have my way : for I tell you that at the last, sooner than be conquered 
by those your people sent, I would kill vou both, and then — then,” she 
cried excitedly, “ I should kill myself ! 


212 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


CHAPTER LIII. 

WUY CIIUMBLEY WAS BROUGHT. 

As tho Inclie Maida uttered her anjip’y threat she swept out of the 
room, leaving the two young officers staring at the heavy curtain that 
closed the door. 

“ The fury! — the tigress ! ” exclaimed Hilton. 

** Well, I don’t know ! ” drawled Chumbley. “ She seems to me very 
much like what woman is all the world round.” 

“ Why, she is a blood-thirsty savage I ” cried Hilton. 

“ No : only a woman who has lived all her life where every man 
carries a sharp-pointed weapon. Englishwomen are much the same at 
heart.” 

“Why, you blasphemer against the honour of our fair English maids 
and dames ! ” cried Hilton, laughing. 

“Not 1 1 ” said Chumbley. “They don’t live amongst people who 
carry daggers and spears. We go unarmed — I mean Europeans — and 
pay soldiers to do our fighting for us ; but you baffle a woman of spirit 
— you cross her and behave badly to her, and you see if she wouldn’t 
fight.” 

“ Fight, man ? ” 

“Yes, but not Avith a dagger; she would fight with her tongue — 
perhaps with her pen — and sting and wound, and perhaps -pretty well 
slay her foe.” 

“But this woman is outrageous!” cried Hilton. “Oar English 
ladies are all that is soft and gentle.” 

“ Sometimes,” said Chumbley ; “ some of us get an ugly stab or two 
now and then.” 

“ Out upon you, slanderer ! ” cried Hilton, laughingly, as he paced up 
and down once more. 

“If you don’t stop that irritating, wild beast’s cage-walk,” said 
Chumbley, “I’ll petition the Inche Maida to have you chained to a 
bamboo.” 

“Pish! ’’cried Hilton, imitating his friend, and throwing himself 
down upon one of the divans. 

“ I thought the other day that I was stabbed to the heart by a pair of 
glittering eyes,” said Chumbley ; “ but being a regular pachyderm, the 
wound only just went through my skin, and I soon healed up.” 

“ How allegorical we are getting ! ” said Hilton, laughing. 

“Yes,” replied Chumbley, coolly, “ very. Then there was my friend 
Hilton : he did get a stab that pretty well touched his heart, and the 
Avound smarts still.” 

Hilton sat up, and glared at his friend. 

“ And yet he calls a woman a tigress and a savage because she utters 
threats that an Englishwoman would hide out of sight.” 

“ You are improving, Chumbley.” 

“ Yes, I am,” said the other. 

“ Now, are you ready to try and escape before wo are krissed ? *’ 


WHY CHUMBLEY WAS BROUCxIIT. 


213 


“Ball! — stuff! She -wouldn’t kris us ! She’d threaten, but she 
wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head, unless scissoring off one of your 
Hyperion curls injured it -\vhen she took it for a keepsake. I’m going 
to prophesy now.” 

“ Going to what? ” 

“ Prophesy— set up as a prophet. Are you ready ? ” 

“ Beady ? ” 

“Yes. Can you bear it ? ” 

“If you are going to chatter away like this,” said Hilton, contemp- 
tuously, “I shall pray her Malay majesty to find me another cell. 
There, go on. What is your prophecy ? ” 

“ That as soon as the bit of temper has burned out, madam will 
come back smiling and be as civil as can be.” 

“ Not she,” said Hilton. “ Hang the woman ! ” 

“Where ? ” said Chumbley. “Bound your neck ? ” 

“ No, round yours. I’m sorry I -was so rough to her ; but it is, ’pon 
my honour. Chum, such a contemptible, degrading set-out, that I can’t 
keep my temper over it.” 

“ You’ll cool down after a bit,” said Chumbley, yawning. “ I say, 
though, I’m hungry. I shall protest when she comes in again. She 
pretended that she was sending those girls for drinks and cigars. I 
say,” he cried, excitedly, “I shall protest or break the bars of the 
cage, or do something fierce, if that is her game.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ Why, if she is going to starve you into submission. I’ll give in 
directly if it’s to be that. 'There, what did I say ? ” he whispered, as 
the folds of the heavy curtains were drawn aside, and the Inche Maida 
entered, looking quite calm and almost sad now as she approached. 

“I am sorry,” she said, holding out her hand to Hilton, who rose and 
bowed, but did not attempt to take the hand she offered. 

“ I was very angry,” continued the Princess, in a low, penitent voice. 
“ Malay women let their feelings get the mastery when they are angry. 
I suppose English ladies never do ? ” 

Chumbley coughed slightly and made a grimace. 

“ Mr. Chumbley,” she said, turning to him, “you will shake hands ? 
I am not angry now. You need not be afraid.” 

“ I wasn’t afraid,” said Chumbley, taking the hand, and pressing it 
warmly. 

“ You were not ? ” she cried, with a flash from her dark eyes. 

“ Not a bit,” he said, laughing. 

“ Suppose I said I would kill you ? ” she cried. 

“ Well, it would be quite time enough to feel afraid when the opera- 
tion was about to be performed,” said Chumbley, coolly. “ I never meet 
troubles half way.” 

“I cannot understand you,” said the Princess. “You are a very 
strange man. It is because you are so big, I think, that you are not 
afraid.” 

Chumbley bowed. 

“Perhaps so,” he said. 

“I came back,” said the Princess, “ to tell you that I was sorry 1 


214 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


spoke so angrily ; but you must both know that I will be obeyed. If I 
were not firm, my people would treat me like you do your servants. I 
wish to speak to you both now.” 

“Say a civil word to her, Hilton,” whispered Chumbley. 

“ Tell her to put an end to this absurd piece of folly,” said Hilton, in 
the same tone. “We shall be the laughing-stocks and butts of the 
whole service.” 

The slight twitch at the corner of the Inche Maida’s mouth betrayed 
the fact that she had heard their words, but she took no notice, and went 
on addressing Chumbley now. 

“I ask you both to share my home,” she said. “ You are his friend, 
Mr. Chumbley, and I know he likes you, so I felt that it would be too 
much to expect him to bo quite happy here without an English friend. 
Besides, I know how great and good a soldier you are.” . 

“I modestly accept your praise, madam,” said Chumbley; “but I 
haven’t seen yet the record of my noble deeds.” 

“ You puzzle me when you speak like that,” said the Princess. “ You 
are laughing at me ; but I will not be angry with his friend, whom I 
brought to be companion, counsellor, and guide.” 

“ ISo you had mo kidnapped to amuse Captain Hilton — eh ? ” said 
Chumbley. “ Well really, madam, I am honoured I ” 

“ Not only for that I ” said the Princess, eagerly. “ Do I not make 
you understand? You are a soldier and a brave man ! ” 

“ How do you know that ? ” said Chumbley, with a good-humoured 
twinkle in his eye. 

“How do I know ? ” cried the Princess. “ Would the English Queen 
have chosen you to guard Mr. Harley with your men if you were not ? 
My people know already that you are brave. You beat them so that they 
could hardly master you ; and they talk about you proudly now, and call 
you the great, strong brave rajah.” 

“Well, it’s very kind of them,” said Chumbley, drily; “for I laid 
about me as heartily as I could.” 

“Yes, they told me how you fought, and I was glad ; for they would 
have despised you if you had only been big, and had let them tie you 
like a beaten elephant.” 

“ That comes of being big, Bertie,” said Chumbley. “ You see, they 
compare me to an elephant.” 

“ I have commanded that you shall be chief captain for your friend, 
and lead our fighting men, as well as being Tumongong, my lord’s 
adviser. A chief is trebly strong who has a brave and trusty friend.” 

“ I say, old man, do you hear all this ? ” said Chumbley. 

** Yes, I hear,” said the other, quietly. 

“ This is promotion with a vengeance I Yesterday lieutenant of foot, 
to-day commander-in-chief of her highness the Inche Maida’s troops.” 

“Yes, you shall be commander,” said the Princess, seriously. “It 
will save my country, for my people will follow you to the death.” 

“Well, ’pon my word. Princess,” said Chumbley, merrily, “you are 
a precious clever, sensible woman, and I like you after all” 

“ And I like you,” she said, innocently. “ I do not love you, but I 
like you very much, you seem so brave and true, and what you people 


A NIGHT OF TERROR. 


215 


call frauk. You will help me, will you not, Loth of you ? Think how 
I appealed to Mr. Harley for help — how that almost my life depends 
upon it — and what did I get but empty words ? ” 

“ You did not get much, certainly,” said Chumbley. 

“ Then talk to your friend, and advise him. He will do what you say.” 

“No,” said Chumbley, laughing, “that is just what he will not 
do. If ever there was a man who would not take my advice, it is 
Hilton.” 

“ Try him now that he is here — now that he knows how useless it is 
to fight against his fate. Speak to him, and speak kindly ! ” she 
whispered. “ I am going to my women now.” 

She took one step towards Hilton, holding out her hand to him in a 
gentle, appealing manner ; but he only bowed distantly, and turned aw'ay. 

The soft, appealing look passed from the Inche Maida’s face, giving 
place to an angry frown ; but this died out as she turned to Chumbley. 

“We two are friends, I hope? ’’she said, holding out her hand. 
“ You are not angry with me ? ” 

Well, not very,” he replied, smiling; “ one can’t be angry with a 
woman long for such a trick as this.” 

“ Yes,” she said, quickly, “it is a trick, as you English call it. I 
have won the trick.” 

“ Yes, you have won the trick,” assented Chumbley ; “ but you don’t 
hold the honours,” he added to himself. 

“ I am glad that you are wise,” she said, smiling now. “ I will go, 
and my people shall bring you dinner.” 

“ Thanks,” said Chumbley; “ that is the kindest act you can do to us 
now ; only please forget the poison.” 

“ Poison ! ” she cried, indignantly. “ How dare you say that to me ! 
You are prisoners here, but you are quite safe while you do not try to 
escape. Have I done so little to make myself an Englishwoman that 
you talk of poison ? ” 

“Yes,” said Chumbley to himself, “so little to make yourself an 
Englishwoman that you play upon us such a trick as this 1 ” 

The door opened, the Inche Mai da passed through ; and as the curtain 
fell down again and covered the opening, Hilton turned angrily upon his 
friend. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

A NIGHT OF TERROR. 

It was night before Helen again awoke, and her first thought was of 
escape ; but as she softly rose to a sitting posture, she felt that one of 
the girls was by her side, and as she listened to her regular breathing, 
and tried in the darkness to collect her thoughts and to recall exactly 
where the door and window lay, the black night seemed a little less 
black just in one particular part of the room, and she realized that the 
window must lie there. 

“ If I could get past that window ! ” thought Helen, with throbbing 


2iG 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


brain. “I know it -would be hard, but still I might make my way to 
the riyer and find someone who would be my friend. There must be 
paths through the jungle,” 

Then with a strange aching sense of misery she thought of how little 
she had done since she had been out there. No one could be more 
ignorant of the nature of the jungle than she. She remembered that 
someone had called it impenetrable ; but she knew that Dr. Bolter went 
on expeditions to discover gold, and that the Eeverend Arthur Eose- 
burj’- sometimes wandered there, 

“ Poor Mr. Eosebury ! ” she said, half aloud. “ What he could do 
surely I could,” and then the blood in her veins seemed to freeze, and a 
shudder ran through her, for from out of the darkness came a deep, 
hoarse, snarling roar that she recognized at once as that of some tiger 
on the prowl. 

She was very ignorant of the jungle and its dangers, but she knew 
that if she should attempt to leave the building -where she -R'as im- 
prisoned now, the result -would bo that she would encounter a foe of 
-whose savage nature the station was full of tales. 

The stories of her childhood came back to her then, and she laughed 
bitterly as she recalled the faith she had once had in the legend of Una 
and the lion, and similar histories of how the helpless had been 
befriended by the savage creatures of the forest. Then, as she thought 
of her defenceless state, she once more shuddered, and asked herself 
whether it would not be better to trust herself to the jungle than stay 
where she was, to encounter one whom she dreaded far more than the 
creature whose cry she had just heard. 

In a fit of desperate energy as her thoughts were fixed upon 
Murad and the possibility that he might at any time now present him- 
self, Helen softly glided from her couch and began to cross the uneven 
floor, stepping cautiously from bamboo lath to lath, and shivering as one 
gave a crack from time to time. 

It seemed darker now, and for guide to-vmrds the window there -wms 
nothing but the faintly-felt sensation of the dank jungle air coming 
cool against her cheek ; but she kept on, thinking nothing of the way 
she should turn or how she should escape ; all that animated her no-w 
-was the one great idea that she must steal away beyond the power of 
these two Malay women to recall her. If she could now do that, the 
rest might prove easy. Something would no doubt offer itself. 

“I must, I will escape,” she half wailed, in a whisper that startled 
her as it fell upon her ear, so full was it of helpless misery and despair. 

She paused to listen, for one of the girls had moved, and then, as 
she stood in the darkness, there was a very faint rustling noise, and 
Helen felt that her gaoler had risen and was cautiously stealing towards 
her. So sure was she of this, that she held up one hand to keep her 
enemy at a distance ; but though the sound continued, no one touched 
her, and the soft rustling came no nearer to wdiere she stood. 

She uttered a sigh of misery at her own dread and overwrought 
imagination, as she now realized the fact that the soft rustling was that 
of leaves as the night -v ind stirred them when it passed, for the soft» 
heavy breathing of the sleepers came regularly to her ear. 


A NIGHT OF TERROK. 


217 


It 'sras very strange and confusing, though, for now in that intense 
darkness she seemed to have lost herself, and she could not tell exactly 
from which side the heavy breathing came. 

Once, as she listened intently, it seemed to grovr so loud that it struck 
her it was the breathing of some monster of the jungle that had 
stopped by the open window ; but soon she recovered herself sufficiently 
to feel that she was wrong : it was but the regular sleep of her com- 
panions, and laying her hand upon her breast to stay the throbbings of 
her heart, she gathered up the loose sarong that interfered with her 
progress, and stepped on cautiously towards where she believed the door 
to be. 

Once more the yielding bamboos bent beneath her weight, creaking 
loudly, and as they cracked at every step the more loudly now that 
she was walking beyond the rugs, the sounds were so plain in the still 
night that she tremblingly wondered why her companions did not wake. 

At last one gave so loud a crack that she stood perfectly still, afraid 
to either advance or recede ; but to her great comfort the regular 
breathing of the tw'o Malay girls rose and fell, as it were, like the 
pulses of the intensely hot night. 

With the feeling that any attempt at haste must result in failure, 
Helen stood there listening as the low hum of the night-flying insects 
reached her ear; and somehow, in spite of the peril in which she stood, 
thoughts of the past came back, and the hot-breathed gloom seemed to 
suggest those summer nights at the Miss Twettenham’s, when the sun- 
scorched air lingered in the dormitories, and they used to sit by tho 
open windows, enjoying the sweetness of the soft night, reluctant to go 
to bed. Those were the times when, filled with romantic thoughts, they 
listened to the nightingales answering each challenge from copse to 
copse, and making the listeners think of subjects the Misses Twotten- 
hiim never taught— subjects relating to love, with serenades, cavaliers, 
elopements, and other horrors, such as would have made the thin hair 
of those amiable elderly ladies stand on end. For there wajs something 
very witching in those soft summer nights, an atmosphere that set 
young hearts dreaming of romantic futures. Helen Perowne had 
perhaps had the wildest imagination of any dreamer there, but in her 
most exalted times she had never dreamed so wild a life-romance as that 
of which she had become the heroine ; and as she stood there with her 
throat parched, listening to the hum of mosquitoes and tho breathing 
of her companions, everything seemed so unreal that she was ready to 
ask herself whether she slept — whether she did not dream still — and 
would awake to find herself back in the conventual seclusion of the old 
school. 

Then once more came the shudder-engendering roar of the prowling 
tiger, apparently close at hand, and in its deep, strange tones seeming 
to make the building vibrate. 

Helen shivered, and tho cold, damp perspiration gathered on her face, 
as she felt now the propinquity of the tiger to such an extent that she 
w’as ready to sink down helpless upon the floor. 

There itwas again— that low, deep, muttering roar, ending in a growl- 
ing snarl, and so close below the window that she trembled, knowing 


218 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


she did that thei*e were only a few frail bamboo laths between her 
and the most savage creature that roamed the jungle. 

Was it real, she asked herself once more, that she, Helen Perowno, 
was here in this wild forest, surrounded by beasts of prey, and none of 
her friends at hand ; or had she lost her senses, and W'ould she awaken 
some day calm and cool at home, with a faint, misty recollection of 
having suffered from some fever that had attacked her brain. 

Yes, it was real : she was alone and helpless in that terrible place, 
and there, in the pulsating furnace-like heat of the dark night, was 
the cry of the tiger once again. 

There was no doubt of its being one of these huge catlike creatures, 
for she had heard it frequently by night in the neighbourhood of the 
settlement, where during the past few years more than one unfortunate 
Chinese servant had been carried off. But when she had listened to the 
low, muttered guttural roar, ending in an angry snarl, she had been at 
the window of her own home, surrounded by protectors ; and awesome 
as the sound had seemed, it had never inspired her with such dread as 
now, when she had determined to risk everything in her attempt to 
escape,^ and expose herself to the tender mercies of such creatures as this 
now wandering about the place. 

Again and again came the cry, now seemingly distant, now close at 
hand, till at last Helen’s knees refused to support her, and she sank 
down trembling, for the creature’s breathing could be plainly heard 
beneath where she stood, the lightly built house being like all in the 
Malay jungle, raised upon stout bamboo or palm posts for protection 
from wild beasts and flood. 

Singularly enough, as the first horror passed away, Helen felt her 
courage return. 

“ It will not hurt me,” she said, hysterically ; but she crouched there 
trembling as she listened to the snuffling noise beneath her, and ther 
there was a dull thud as of a heavy leap. 

Helen shuddered as she listened, and by some strange mental process 
be^n to compare the feline monster, excited by the scent of human 
beings close at hand, to Murad ; and after listening till all seemed still 
once more — till the muffled cry of the tiger arose now some distance 
away, she rose cautiously, and made her way towards the door. 

A kind of nervous energy had seized upon her now, and she stepped 
forward lightly to touch the woven walls. 

Sweeping her hand over them, she recognized her position now by 
the hangings, and the darkness-engendered confusion to some extent 
passed away. ^ She found the door, and the great curtain rustled as 
she drew it aside to get at the fastening, her hands feeling wet and cold, 
while her face was burning and her heart kept up a heavy, dull beat. 

There was a faint sound apparently from behind her now, and she 
stood listening, but it was not repeated. The low hum of the noc- 
turnal insects rose and fell, and once more the soft rustling of the leaves 
stirred by the night wind came through the window close at hand, and 
from very far off now, and so faint as to be hardly perceptible, there 
was the tiger’s growl. There was nothing more but the heat, which 
seemed in its intensity to throb and beat upon her brain. 


A DESPEEATE APPEAL. 


219 


But still Helen dared not move for a time, trembling the while lest 
the first touch she gave the door should awaken her gaolers. At last, 
though, she nerved herself once more, and tried to find out how the 
door was fastened. There was no lock, no bolt, such as those to which 
she was accustomed, and though she passed her hands over it in every 
direction it was without result. 

The time was gliding on, and in her ignorance of how long she 
might have slept, she felt that morning would at anytime be there ; so 
with a weary sigh of misery she left her futile task and crept cautiously 
to the window. 

It did not seem so dark now, or else her eyes were more accustomed 
to the want of light, for she found the window directly ; and as she 
took hold of the bamboo bars, the hot night air came in a heavy pufl: 
against her face, fierce and glowing as if it were some watching 
monster’s breath. 

She listened as she stood there, and the breathing of the two girls 
seemed to have ceased. There was the tiger’s cry once more, biit 
sounding now like a distant wail, and her spirits rose as she felt that 
one of the perils likely to assail her was passing away. 

Again she listened, and once more the breathing of her companions 
reached her ear, the Malay girls seeming to be sleeping heavily, as 
with nervous fingers Helen now strove to move one of the bars, or to 
loosen it so that it could bo thrust up or down, but without avail, 
then she strove to draw one of them sufiiciently aside to allow her to 
pass through, but her efforts were entirely in vain, although she kept 
on striving, in total ignorance of the fact that it would have taken a 
strong man armed with an axe to have done the work she adventured 
with her tender fingers alone. 

Just as she let her aching arms fall to her side and a weary sigh of 
disappointment escaped her breast, she felt herself caught tightly by 
the wrist, and with a sensation of horror so great as to threaten the over- 
throw of her reason, she snatched herself away, and clung to the bars 
of the window with all her remaining strength. 


CHAPTEE LV. 

A DESPERATE APPEAL, 

It was some few moments after she had been seized again, and this 
time held by two hands stronger than her own, that Helen Perowne 
realized the fact that it was the Malay girl that had shown her the most 
compassion who had taken her by the arm. 

“ What are you dcing here ? ” was whispered in a low, angry voice. 

Helen made no reply, and as she clung to the window, the girl went 
on : 

“ You were trying to get away, but it is of no use. Murad knew that 
when they brought you here. If you could get out of this place you 
could not go far through the jungle before the tigers would tear you 


220 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


down. No one kills them here. He has them kept that he may htint 
them ; but when the time for hunting them comes, Murad is away with 
the English people, or he is not well, or he has no elephants, so the 
tigers are never touched. They would tear you down, I say ; and when 
Murad’s men searched for you, they would only find your bones. I re- 
member two girls escaping to the jungle, but they were both killed.’’ 

“Fetter that than stay hero,” said Helen, in a low, excited voice. 
“ Listen to me,” she continued, striving hard to make herself under- 
stood ; “ you do not like me — you do not want me here.” 

“ No ! ” said the girl, fiercely. “ I wish you had not come — that you 
would go and be killed ; but if you were to escape, IMurad would kill 
us all ; and I do not want to die — no— not yet.” 

“ No, no ; he would not be so cruel ! ” whispered Helen, who trem- 
bled with hope and excitement, as she felt that a chance for escape had 
at last come. “ Help me to get aw'ay — to get back to my friends ! ” she 
cried, appealingly. “ Let me escape, and I will reward you — I will give 
you what you like. Do you understand me ? ” 

“ Yes, I know what you say,” replied the girl, “ but I do not believe 
it. You are the English lady who made the Eajah love you because ho 
was so handsome. We know all here ; and now that he has brought 
you, what is this you tell me — that you want to go away ? Oh, no ! it 
is like a little child. I do not believe one word ! ” 

“ But it is true ! ’’whispered Helen. 

“ Speak lower, or you will waken her,” said the girl ; “ and she hates 
you more than I ! ” 

“ I will obey you in anything,” whispered Helen, restraining her voice, 
and sinking down and clutching the girl’s knees, “only help me to 
escape, and my father will fill your hands with gold.” 

“ What use would it be to me ? ” said the girl, with a quiet little 
laugh. 

“ I will give you anything you ask ! ” panted Helen, excitedly, as she 
seemed to see a faint chance of the girl yielding. 

“ Do you not understand what would happen if I helped you to go ? ” 
said the girl, quietly. 

“ No ; I cannot tell,” replied Helen, “ but I will not mind the danger.” 

“ There is more danger for me than for you,” was the answer, with a 
little laugh. “ I will tell you : Murad would be angry and fierce; he 
would forget that he loved me once, and brought me here to be one of 
his wives. He would make his men take me to the river, and force mo 
to kneel down, when I should be krissed and thrown into the water for 
the crocodiles to eat.” 

“ Oh, no; it is too horrible ! ” whispered Helen, as her excited im- 
agination conjured up the dreadful scene. 

“ It is true,” said the girl, simply, “ He had one wife krissed like 
that because she ran away twice — because she ran away to the boy she 
loved before she was taken from her home. Murad is Sultan, and he 
will be obeyed. He is very cruel sometimes ! ” 

Helen shuddered as she thought that if this were true, she could not 
ask for help at such a price. 

“I should have gone away before now,” said the girl, thoughtfully, 


A DESPERATE APPEAL. 


221 


as her hands played with Helen’s hair ; “for I have someone else w'ho 
followed me here that he might he near me ; but I dare not go ! Murad 
would kill me. It would not hurt much, and I don’t think I should 
mind ; but he would kill someone else, and I could not bear that ! ” 

“ Go, then,” said Helen, quickly. “Leave me to myself. Let me 
escape without your help ! ” 

“ He would kill me and her all the same,” said the girl, sadly ; “ and 
if I let you get out, what could you do ? You would wander in the 
jungle till the beasts seized you or you died. You must have a boat to 
escape from here ; and if you could get a boat you could not row.” 
“I would escape along the jungle-paths,” whispered Helen, excitedly. 
“No,” said the girl, “ you could not do that. There is only one path 
through the jungle, and that goes from this house to the river. That 
is all. You cannot escape ; w% do you try ? ” 

Helen rose from her knees, and clutched the girl’s arms fiercely. 

“ I can escape, and I will ! ” she panted excitedly. “ How dare he 
seize an English lady and insult her like this ! ” 

“ Because he is Sultan here, and he is stronger and greater than we 
are,” said the girl. “ Murad is a mighty prince, and all the people here 
are his slaves and have to obey. You must obey him too.” 

“ I ? ” cried Helen. 

“ Yes, you ; and you will be happy, for he loves you more than all. 
Ho used to come from Sindang here, and talk to us, and praise you, 
and tell us that you would come and bo our mistress here. Ho loves 
you very much, and you will be quite happy soon.” 

“ Happy ? With him ? ” cried Helen, in horror. 

“ Yes, happy. You have won his love from us, and we here are only 
like your slaves. It is you who take away our happiness, and I ought 
to hate you ; but I do not, for you are so voung. Do you love someone 
else ? ” 

“Yes — no, no ! ” panted Helen, excitedly, 

“ But you love Murad ? ” 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” cried Helen. 

“ I am sorry — I am sorry,” said the girl, thoughtfully. 

“ Then help me— pray help me ! ” whispered Helen, prayerfull}^ and 
she flung her arms round the swarthy girl, and held her to her breast. 
“Help me to get away, for I do not love Murad, and you do ! ” 

The girl started and thrust Helen away, but only to cling to her in 
turn after a moment’s pause. 

“ Yes, I think I love him,” she said, softly, “ though he is very cruel 
to me now.” 

“And you hate me — very much — because— because Murad loves 
me ? ” whispered Helen, with a shudder. 

“ I don’t think I hate you very much,” said the girl, softly 
“ You need not hate me — indeed you need not ! ” whispered Helen, 
and her voice, her very ways were changed now. The old pride was 
entirely gone, and she spoke with winning, womanly sweetness, full 
of tenderness and caress, as she nestled closer and closer to the 
girl. 

You need not hate me,” she repeated, “ for I detest this Murad— I 


222 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


loathe him I I love some one else ! Help me, then, to get bach to my 
own people — to escape from Murad. Help me, or I shall die ! ” 

The girl was silent. 

“ Oh,” moaned Helen, “ she does not understand anything I say 1 ” 

“ Yes,” said the girl, softly, “ I understand,” 

** Then you pretended you could not ! ” cried Helen, wrathfully. 

“ Murad ordered me to pretend that I only knew my own tongue,” 
said the girl. *‘But no, I cannot help you, and you will not die. 
I thought so once ; but we do not die because we are taken from our 
homes and people. Murad makes us love him, and then we forget the 
past, for we know that it is our fate.” 

Helen’s heart sank as she listened to the girl’s words, so full of patient 
resignation, and she wondered whether she would ever be like this. 
There was not a ray of hope now in her utterances, and for the moment, 
in the horror of the despair that came upon her, she felt frantic. 

Thrusting her companion from her, she made a dash for the entrance, 
beating and tearing at it in her madness, as she uttered a series of loud 
hysteric cries. She shook the door fiercely, but her efforts were in 
vain ; and as she strove to reach the window her fit of excitement 
seemed to pass, leaving her weak and despairing, heart- sick too, as she 
felt how lowering her acts must be in the sight of her companions ; 
for the second girl had now sprung up, and she felt herself dragged 
back to her couch, and there compelled to stay. 

They both joined in scolding her angrily ; and feeling her help- 
lessness, a strange feeling of weakness came over the prisoner, and she 
lay there at last a prey to despair, as she realized now more fully how 
slight was her prospect of escape — how much slighter was the chance 
of Neil Harley coming to her help, however earnestly ho might have 
searched. 

Before morning, when her companions had once more sunk to sleep, 
in spite of the hope that she felt of perhaps after all winning one of 
them to her side, so terribly had her misery of feeling increased, that 
as she pondered on her state, she found herself praying that Neil Harley 
might never look upon her face again. 


CHAPTER LVI. 

ESCAPED BY ACCIDENT. 

The Rev. Arthur Roseburv passed many miserable hours when the 
sun was down, for then he began to think of Helen Perowne, and 
wondered where she wus. It was a terrible thought that she was in the 
power of the Malays; and in a dreamy, despairing manner, ho 
wondered how matters were at the station, and whether any steps 
would be taken to set him at liberty. 

But as soon as the daylight came there was solace for the solitary 
prisoner, for ho was amongst wonderful plants, such as he had never 
before seen, and his guards or attendants, whichever they might be 


ESCAPED BY ACCIDENT. 


223 


called, were always ready to help him, and to supply him with any 
specimens he required. 

He had lost count of time by devoting himself so earnestly to the 
botanical treasures of the garden ; and one morning, after asking him- 
self whether he ought not to make some effort to escape, he was out in 
the grounds of his prison-house once more, when, having pretty well 
exhausted its treasures, he walked straight to the gate. 

His guard, who had been seated beneath the veranda calmly chewing 
his betel-nut, snatched out his kris, and darted fiercely after the chap- 
lain, who was evidently about to escape ; but on coming in sight of the 
prisoner, and finding him stooping over a cluster of orchids in a damp 
place in the jungle, the man stopped short, a contemptuous smile 
crossed his face, and he slowly replaced his kris, folded his arms, and 
leaned against a tree. 

In his eyes the botanist was a simple maniac, and so long as he made 
no vigorous effort to escape, it did not seem to matter if he went a 
little way into the jungle to collect his plants. 

Stepping back quietly a few yards, the man held up his hands in a 
peculiar way, and a couple of dark figures armed with spears, glided 
from the house to his side, the little party crouching dowm amongst the 
dense growth, and holding a consultation for a few minutes, the result of 
which was that the two last arrivals glided back a short distance, while 
the principal guard slowly follow’^ed the chaplain some twenty or thirty 
yards behind, and always unseen by him he watched. The foliage was 
so dense that there W'as never the slightest difficulty in this, and hence 
it was that as the Keverend Arthur, forgetful now of everything but his 
favourite pursuit, went slowly on into the more easily-penetrated parts 
of the jungle, his guards were always close at hand, forming as it were 
the links of a chain between his prison and himself. 

At intervals he would perhaps stop and think of Helen, wondering 
■where she was, and w'hether he ought not to make some strenuous 
effort to find her; but as often as not, in the midst of these thoughts, 
he would catch sight of some fresh flower or woodland moss, objects 
that he had worshipped long before Helen Perowne had disturbed the 
tranquillity of his peaceful life, and then he would eagerly stoop down 
to pick it, most likely ending by kneeling in some wet place, w'hile ho 
fixed a powerful lens in his eye, examined the plant carefully, and 
stopped to think. Then most likely he would pick some huge leaf to 
lay upon the ground, and with that as tray to hold the various portions 
of his specimen, he w'ould take out a penknife, and proceed to dissect 
the plant, examining its various parts "with the greatest care before 
making the most rigid notes, and then consigning his treasure to the 
basket he had brought with him. 

This went on day after day, till he got into the habit of going off 
directly after his morning meal, and penetrating some distance along 
some narrow jungle path, generally losing himself completely at last, 
and pausing to stare about him, hungry, faint, and bewildered. 

It was always the same ; after staring about him for a few minutes, 
wondering w'hat he should do, and feeling oppressed by the vastness 
and silence of the jungle, ho would catch sight of a tall dark figure, 

15 


224 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


standing some little distance off, leaning upon a spear, and go to it for 
help. 

The quiet helplessness of the prisoner seemed to win his guards over 
to him; and as day after day glided slowly by, and he showed not 
the slightest disposition to make an attempt at escape, he was allowed 
more latitude by the Malays, and travelled farther and farther from 
the place that had been made his prison. 

It was only natural, under the circumstances, that, with the cord 
that metaphorically held him so much relaxed, it would grow weaker 
and weaker, and so it proved. In fact, had the chaplain been as other 
men were, he would have had but little difficulty in making his escape. 
But after thinking deeply of the possibilities of getting away, the 
Reverend Arthur concluded that not only was it next to impossible, 
but that, situated as he was, it was his duty to stay where he was, 
especially as he believed himself to be near Helen, who was also a 
captive, and whom, sooner or later, he would be called upon to help 
and protect. He had, too, a half-formed, nebulous idea that it would 
be better to leave matters to fate, for in his helpless state he could do 
nothing; and then one day he began to think that his wanderings about 
the jungle might prove beneficial in giving him a knowledge of the coun- 
try, and on the day in question this idea had come upon him strongly. 

He actually reproached himself for being so supine, and went off 
uninterrupted for some distance, growing more and more animated as 
he went, and telling himself that he felt sure Helen Perowne was some- 
where near, and that he must strive to find her. 

The result was that he walked laboriously on for miles, till he was 
hot, weary, and exhausted ; and then seating himself upon the trunk 
of a huge palm, which being situated in a more open place than usual, 
had been blown down by some furious gale, he began to wipe the 
drenching perspiration from his face, sighed deeply, and then saw 
clustering close by his feet a magnificent group of orchids of a species 
that was quite new. 

The Reverend Arthur Rosebury had gone on well into middle life 
without so much as dreaming of love, and then he had seen Helen 
Perowne, and his love for her had not prospered. Still it had burned 
on steadily and brightly month after month, and only wanting a little 
fostering care upon the lady’s part to make it burst forth into a brilliant 
flame ; but somehow his old pursuits retained an enormous power over 
his spirit, and although upon this particular day he had come out 
determined to make some effort — what he hardly knew, but still to 
make some effort — he was turned at once from his project by the 
flowers at his feet ; and that day Helen’s face troubled him no more. 

Heat, hunger, pd weariness were all forgotten, and he did not even 
look round to see if either of his guards was there, though all the same the 
principal of them had for the last hour been following him with low'ering 
looks. Quite out of patience, and hot and exhausted in his turn, he was 
about to close up, take the chaplain by the arm, and lead him back, 
when he saw him seat himself, and soon after stoop down and begin to 
pick the plants, digging some of them up completely by the roots, and 
spreading them before him for a long investigation. 


ESCAPED BY ACCIDENT. 


225 


The Malay smiled with satisfaction, and the lowering, angry look 
left his face. He, too, found a resting-place, took out his eternal betel- 
box, and prepared his piece of nut, chewing away contentedly, like some 
riiminating animal, and keeping his eyes fixed upon the Reverend 
Arthur as he busied himself ivith his plants, cutting, laying open, and 
making notes. As in the distance the Malay saw the cLaplain’s pencil 
going, he slowly sank back into a more comfortable position ; then his 
eyes begun to open and shut, and open and shut, and then forget to open, 
so that by the time the prisoner had begun to gather up his specimens, 
a happy smile of content upon his lip, the guard was lying right back, 
hidden amongst the dense growth, sleeping heavily, and half-covered 
by different kinds of insects which were investigating the nature of the 
strange being that had taken possession of their domain. 

The time passed, and then the chaplain rose refreshed by his long 
rest, looked round to see which way he had come, and after satisfying 
himself that he was quite right, went off in a direction that, for taking 
him back to whence he came, was quite wrong. 

It did not trouble him though in the least, for his mind was intent 
upon the plants he passed ; and so accustomed was he to giving up his 
thoughts entirely to such pursuits as this, that he was quite lost to 
eve^thing else, and he went slowly on, finding himself in a more open 
portion of the jungle, and surrounded on all sides by new plants. 

It was a perfect paradise to him, and he did not feel the want of an 
Eve, but culled the specimens here and there, careless of the fact that 
there was no path where he was, no trace of human beings having been 
there before, but there were choice specimens in abundance, and that 
was enough for him. 

Once only did his thoughts go back to his friends, and that was when 
with much difficulty he had forced his way through some dense thorns 
with unfortunate results to his clothes. 

“ I’m afraid that Mary would bo rather angry,” he muttered, “ if she 
saw me now. Poor Mary! how happy she seems with the doctor; 
but she is just a little too strict sometimes.” 

Thinking about his sister, he went on in the most abstracted manner, 
the thoughts of his sister bringing up Helen Perowne, and he went on 
talking to himself half aloud, while a flock of parroquets in the trees 
above his head kept travelling on with him, flitting from branch tu 
branch, climbing by foot and beak, hanging by one leg, heads up and 
heads down, and always seeming to watch him, and be mocking and 
gibing at him like a set of green and scarlet feathered implings who 
made derisive gestures, while they were astounded at the sight of an 
English clergyman journeying through that savage place. 

“ I’m afraid dear Mary would not like it,” he said, simply, “ even if 
finally Helen were to give me her consent. And yet dear Mary would 
never be able to resist so much beauty as Helen possesses. I wonder 
where she is now ? ” 

Ho sighed deeply, and then paused to consider the beauty of a lovely 
acacia with its graceful pinnate leaves. Then came a hard struggle 
through a dense cane-brake which left him hot and panting. 

“It’s much pleasanter travelling through the English woods,” ha 


226 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


said. “ The heat here is very trying, and I’m getting faint and hungry. 
I’m afraid I’ve lost my 'way.” 

He looked about for some little time, but saw nothingtill he had dragged 
bis weary legs on for about another half mile, when the appearance of 
the ground told him that people had not long since passed that way. 

“ Then I shall find a village,” he said, “ and the people wdll give or 
sell me something, and Dless me, how strange ! ” 

He stopped short and listened, but all was still but the chattering 
and whistling of the birds. 

“It must have been one of the parrots,” he said, “but it sounded 
remarkably like a w'oman’s voice. It is an unaccountable thing to me 
how it is that nature should have given the parrot family so remarkable 
a power of imitating the human voice. Now, as I walked along there 
I could have been sure tliat a ■w'oman had called to me aloud for help. 
It sounded very peculiar in this wdld jungle, echoing and strange, and 
it seemed to startle me.” 

There was a regular chorus of whistling and chattering just now, 
and the chaplain started, for there came directly after a loud whirring 
of wings ; the air seemed full of flashes of green, and blue, and scarlet, 
and then the stillness was almost painful. 

“ How easily one may be deceived ! ” he said, quietly. “ One notices 
such things more when one is tired and hungry; and it is very dull 
work to be alone out here, I wish Bolter could be my companion 
and there it was again.” 

The chaplain stopped short and listened, for a wild cry certainly rang 
out now ; and, willing as he 'was to attribute the strange noise to a bird, 
it seemed impossible that it could have proceeded from one of them. 

“ If it is a cry,” the chaplain said, hastily, “ I must bo very near to 
a village, and someone is in trouble.” 

The idea of help being needed roused him so that he hurried on, and 
kept thrusting back the hanging and running canes which impeded his 
•way, till at the end of a few minutes he came suddenly \jpon an open 
space surrounded by trees, with evidently a broad track, leading away 
towards what, from the difference in the growth of the foliage, must be 
a stream. 

Away to the right he could see the gable-end of what was apparently 
a large palm-thatched house, and over it there ■was a group of magnifi- 
cent cocoa-palms, such as at another time would have secured his atten- 
tion ; but now different feelings were awakened, for from out of a low 
clump of trees ho suddenly saw a Malay woman come running, her gay 
silken sarong and scarf fluttering in the breeze. 

She saw him evidently, and made signs to him, which, instead of 
attracting him to her side, made him shrink away. 

“ It is some quarrel among themselves,” he muttered, for he recalled 
the advice he had heard given him as to his behaviour to the people, 
and the danger of interfering with their home lives. 

As he thought this, he stopped, and was about to turn away, when a 
fresh cry smote his ear, and the woman ran a few paces towards him, 
tottered as she caught her foot in a trailing cane, and fell heavily to 
the ground. 


A DESPERATE ATTEMPT. 


227 


CHAPTER LVIl 

A DESPERATE ATTEMPT. 

^loRE long Avcary days of stifling heat, without a breath of air to re- 
lieve the oppression, and more hot suffocating nights, during which, 
half wild with terror and despair, Helen, like some newly-captured 
bird, had beaten the bars of her prison in vain. 

She had appealed to the Malay girl, but only for her to turn away 
and seem at last weary and troubled by the importunity she had re- 
ceived. Then she had appealed to the second girl, who was of a 
morose jealous aspect, and who evidently detested her. But all appeal 
here was vain, for the girl evidently did not understand her words, and 
turned sullenly away. It was so, too, with the rest of the women, who 
came to the door and just entered the room in obedience to some call. 

But Helen might as well have appealed to the trees that stood tall 
and columnar just outside her prison window. Those who did not 
understand her words looked at her with a heavy scowl ; while those 
who could comprehend laughed, or made her keep away from them, for 
they disliked her coming, and their eyes plainly told the hatred that 
there was in their hearts. Beside which, they knew the punishment 
that would fall to their lot should they go in opposition to their lord’s 
orders, and the danger was tco great to tempt the most w’illing of them 
to run any risks. 

The girl who had been most gentle to her, and who had not scrupled 
to talk freely about her own affairs, now seemed to keep aloof ; and 
feeling more and more her helplessness, Helen awoke to the fact that if 
she were to escape from her present durance it must be by her own 
effort. 

In this spirit she tried to restrain herself, and waited patiently for 
some opportunity for communicating with her friends ; though when 
this opportunity would come she was obliged to confess was doubtful 
in the extreme. 

Naturally enough her thoughts turned to writing, and feeling the 
folly of applying in a place like her prison for pens and paper, she set 
herself to contrive some means upon which she could describe her posi- 
tion, flnding it at last in the form of a book, one of whose fly-leaves 
she covered with a pitiful appeal to any Englishman who would read 
it, and imploring help. This she kept by her, ready to send should 
opportunity occur, and still the dreaiy days glided by. 

There w'as one redeeming point, though, in her captivity, and that 
was the fact that so far she had not been troubled by a visit from 
Mui-ad ; but at last one morning, when the fresh beauty of the scene 
outside her window and the elasticity of the brisk .air made her feel 
more cheerful than of old, she awoke to the fact that there was a little 
stir about the place ; the women calling to each other and seeming 
busier than was their wont. The two girls who acted as Helen’s 
gaolers ran to the glass as soon as they entered, and with all the 
coquetry of seme London belle in her first season, .placed wreaths cf 


228 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


■white flowers in their braids, Uvisted their sarongs into more graceful 
folds, and then turned their attention to Helen, 

She refused to allow them to approach her at first, but her resist- 
ance was useless, and finding that without violence there were no means 
of overcoming their tolerably good-humoured pertinacity, she submitted, 
wearily telling them to do what they pleased, when one, the most 
friendly, insisted upon taking dovrn her magnificent hair. 

“ Only to make it more beautiful,” she said. 

At this moment the other woman left the room. 

“ Will you help me to escape? ” said Helen, quickly, as soon as they 
were alone. 

“ No ; I dare not. Murad would have me killed.” 

“Then will 3'ou send this paper by a messenger down to the station ?” 

Paper ? ” said the girl, -wonderingly. 

“Yes, paper. I have "OTitten for help; send it by a messenger. 
Here are my rings and watch to pay him for going. Take them, and 
if you have any -womanly feeling, help me now. ” 

“I cannot; I dare not,” whispered the w'oman ; but Helen forced 
paper and trinkets into her hands, just as the second attendant -^-as 
heard coming, -when her companion burst out into one of the minor 
songs of the countrv, and busied herself with her task. 

Helen’s heart gave one great throb of hope, and raising her ej’^es to 
those of her attendant, she read there that her message would be 
sent. 

The second woman brought in a bunch of what seemed to bo a kind 
of waxy yellow jasmine of an extremely po'v\"erful odour. These she 
proceeded to twine in and amongst Helen’s magnificent dark hair ; and 
•when the prisoner shudderingly attempted to resist, feeling as she did 
that she was being decked out for, as it were, a sacrifice, the flower- 
bearer stormed at her angrily in the Malay tongue, and seemed to 
threaten her with some severe punishment if she persisted in tearing 
them out. 

“Itw^ouldbe childish to keep on opposing them,” thought Helen, 
whose spirits were lighter now that she had found some means, as she 
hoped, of communicating with the station ; and she resigned herself to 
her attendant’s clever hands. 

As she sat back, listening languidly to the whistling, chattering 
noise of the parroquets that swarmed in the jungle, she felt a pang 
shoot through her, for very faintly heard there w'as a sound familiar 
to her ear — a spund that she had frequently listened to at her open 
window at the station. It wms the plashing of oars coming from a 
distance, and she felt that at last the Ilajali was approaching the place, 
to see his prisoner. 

Helen’s teeth gritted together ,as she set them h.ard, calling upon 
herself for all her fortitude .and strength of mind for what she knew 
must be a terrible ordc.al. 

The scene at home on that morning when Murad had come to pro- 
pose for her hand came back most vividly, and for the moment she 
trembled as she realized the evil she had done. 

She recovered herself though somewhn.t, and striving hard to bo 


A DESPERATE ATTEMPT. 


229 


prepared for what was to come, sat listening and wondering whether 
Murad really was close at hand. 

She had not long to wait in indecision, and she knew that her hearing 
had not played her false, for the two girls had heard the same sound, 
and running to the window, stood listening as the plash of oars now 
came nearer and nearer. 

Then the sounds ceased, and there was to Helen a painful silence. 
The heat grew oppressive, and the leaves hung motionless in the glowing 
air. For the moment it seemed like one of the oppressive July days in 
her old school ; but the fancy was gone directly after, and the horrors 
of her position came back so strongly that she could hardly refrain 
from running wildly about the room and crying for help. 

Just then the two girls left the window, and crossed to where Helen 
was seated, darting at her, as it seemed in her then excited condition, 
furious and angrily envious looks before turning now to the doorway, 
passing through, and letting the great curtain fall behind. 

As Helen waited her heart began to beat violently, for there was no 
mistaking the import of the sounds she heard. So far they had been 
women’s voices, now unmistakably they were men’s ; and growing 
more and more agitated, and ready to start at every sound, she sat 
waiting for the interview that she knew must come. 

To her surprise the day glided on till the afternoon was well 
advanced, and still, beyond the occasional sound of male voices, thero 
was nothing to distinguish between this day and any other, savo that 
once, when left alone together, the Malay girl whispered to her : 

“ I have sent a messenger with your paper, but he may never take it 
where you wish.” 

Before Helen could declare her thankfulness the girl was gone, 
giving place to the other, who looked at her morosely, and then stood 
leaning by the door till a loud voice called her, and she answered, going 
out quickly, while Helen sat trembling and pressing her hand upon 
her palpitating heart. 

Could it be true ? and if true, were there not attendants waiting to 
guard the entrance, for unmistakably it seemed that the Malay girl had 
hurried to obey the call and left the door open. 

Helen rose, and walked with tottering step to the door, to find that 
not only was it open, but that there was no one in the room beyond — 
a room whose door opened straight upon a kind of bamboo veranda, with 
a flight of steps dowm to the ground ; while beyond that was a clearing, 
and then the jungle. 

She paused for a minute listening. There was not a sound but the 
loud whistling and chattering of the birds in the trees. The place 
might have been deserted, everything W'as so still ; and it did not occur 
to her that this was a time when many of the people would be asleep 
till the heat of the day was past. 

It was enough for her that the way to freedom was there; and 
hesitating no longer, she passed out into the farther room, reached the 
door unseen, and was in the act of descending the flight of steps, when 
one of the Malay women of the place saw and ran at her, catching her 
by the dress and arm, and holding her so tenaciously, that Helen, in 


230 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


her anguish at being thus checked, uttered a cry for help, escaped her 
retainer, and then leaped down and ran. 

The Malay woman was joined by another now ; .and in her excite- 
ment and ignorance of which w<ay to go, she was driven into a comer, 
but only to make a brave dash for liberty as the girls caught and held 
her again. 

In her excitement Helen cried again and again for help, forgetful of 
the fact that she was more likely to summon enemies than friends. 

The cries of a woman had little effect there, for beyond bringing out 
a couple more of the Malay women, Helen’s appeals for help seemed to 
create no excitement ; and she was beginning to feel that her efforts 
would prove in vain, when she saw a figure come from amongst the trees, 
and stretching out her hands towards it, she made one last effort to 
reach what she had looked upon {is safety. 

For there could be no mistaking that figure. It was the chaplain. 
At the moment it seemed to her that Arthur Eosebury had been sent 
there expressly to save her from her terrible position ; and half faint- 
ing, panting, and thoroughly exhausted, she tottered on, tripped and 
fell. 

The effort to escape was vain, for a couple of Malay women seized 
Helen’s .arms and dragged her off, followed by the chaplain, but not for 
many yards. Before he had gone far he too was seized, and hurried back 
in the way by which he had come. It was vain to struggle, and he 
had to resign himself, but it was with feelings mingled with indigna- 
tion and disgust. 

The Mialay l.ady was evidently of superior station by her dress ; and 
th{it she was ill-used there could be no doubt. His English blood 
glowed at the thought, and clergyman though he was, and man of 
peace, he still felt enough spirit to be ready to have undertaken her 
defence. 

He cooled down, though, as he was hurried b.ack through the jungle 
— cooled in temper, but heated in body ; w^hile the faintness and 
hunger soon increased to such an extent that his adventure with the 
Mahiy lady was forgotten. 

But not by Helen Perowne, who, once more shut up in her room, 
rejoiced to think that, though surrounded by enemies, there w.as one 
friend near — a true friend whom she could trust — one who W'ould be 
ready to do anything for her sake, badly as she had beh.aved to him. 

“ He cannot be fjir away,” she said, half aloud, and with hysterical 
sobs in her throat. “ He is near, and there must be friends •with him. 
He saw me, and he will not lose a minute without bringing help ; 
and then ” 

And then she stopped as if paralyzed, for the thought came upon 
her with a flash that, though the Eeverend Arthur llosebury had seen 
her, he had only gazed upon a tall, swarthy Malay woman, in whom 
he could not possibly have recognized Helen "Perowne. 


IIURAD AT HOME. 


231 


CHAPTER LVIII. 

MURAD AT HOME. 

The place vas rcry still once more as Helen sat thinking, -with her tiro 
attendants idling by the 'windo'vr. She had heard the sound of oars, 
and there had been men’s voices, but nothing more. 

She was angry with herself for the ill success of her attempt to 
escape ; but by degrees she CJilmed down, and her excitement passed ofip, 
for there was something inexpressibly comforting in the knowledge 
that the chaplain was not far away. She succeeded so well at last 
in recovering her equanimity that she told herself she was ready to 
crush Murad wdth the outburst of righteous indignation that would flow 
from her lips. 

There was a calm, dreamy feeling aboxit the place now, and her 
attendants seemed half asleep. It was intensely hot, and the birds and 
insects had ceased their whistlings and busy hum. So quiet did it 
seem in the late afternoon that everything might have been supposed 
asleep, when once more the sound of voices sent a thrill through Helen, 
and she began to tremble and feel weak once more, till suddenly there 
was one voice heard above the ofhers, giving orders, and this voice sent 
a flirill through her — not of dread, but of anger. 

She drew herself up, for the time had come, and, like one who has 
been for weeks dreading some painful scene, shrinking within herself, 
but grows brave and ready at the last moment when she is face to face 
with the difficulty, so Helen Perowne suddenly felt herself firm and 
ready for the encounter she had to endure. 

It was Murad's voice undoubtedly, giving orders in a sharp, com- 
manding Avay ; and though he spoke in the Malay tongue, she readily 
recognized the tones that had been used at the station, when he had 
hung over her ottoman, softened his words to the occasion, and then 
gazed at her with love-softened eyes. 

“Idiot! idiot! weak coquette that I was!” she cried to herself. 
“ Had I no more sense than to lead this savage on for the sake of gaining 
a little more adoi-ation. Oh ! father, it was a curse you gave me, and 
not a blessing, in those handsome features that all people praised.” 

The -weak tears rose to her eyes, and it was only by an effort that 
she kept them biick, clenching her teeth and fingers, and striving to 
be fii’m. 

“ It is too late now,” she muttered then. “ Oh ! Gray Stuart, would 
to Heaven that you were here ! ” 

Then, with forced composure upon her face and her heart palpitating 
wildly, she took up one of the Chinese fans that lay by her ottoman, 
and sat listening as she plainly heard steps ascending the broad ladder 
to the platform. Then, with her heart beating in unison to the 
footsteps that came across the adjoining room, she waited till the door 
was thrown open ; the great curtain was hastily drawn aside by the two 
Malay attendants, wffio both stood with head reverently bowed and eyes 
cast down, as if they dared not gaze upon their lord, while Murad entered 


232 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


with a quick imperious step, and stood there in his semi-European 
costume. 

He gazed sharply from one to the other for a moment or two, and 
then made an imperious gesture, signing to the two girls to leave 
the room. 

Helen did not move, but sat with her head raised, her eyelids 
drooped, but watchfully noting everything that went on. She forced 
down her terrible emotion, and moment by moment gained greater 
command over herself. 

The two girls looked up at their lord appealingly for a moment, but 
there was so fierce a look directed at them that they crossed t^heir 
hands depreaitingly upon their breasts, bent their heads, and wdth 
their eyes upon the bamboo fiooring, passed slowly out. 

The time had come. Helen had determined to be brave and to 
resume her mastery over this savage prince ; but in spite of her efforts 
to be calm, her timid woman’s nature prevailed, and found vent in 
a quick, short command to the girls. 

“ No, no,” she cried. “Stay!” 

But as she uttered her order they were passing through, the door 
shut heavily behind them, and the Bajah let the heavy curtain fall back 
in its place. 

Then she felt that she was alone indeed, and for a moment her head 
swam as she gazed through her long dark lashes at the daring Malay 
who was the author of this outrage and its cruel sequence. 

He was still by the door, standing erect and proud, his head drawn 
back, one hand resting upon the hilt of his kris, and a mocking smile of 
triumph upon his face, as if he were rejoicing at the success of his 
plans. 

“ You do not rise to welcome me,” he whispered softly. “ Are you 
angry because I have been so long away ? ” 

She did not answer, but nerved herself more and more, and to her 
great joy she felt that it w'as anger rather than fear that now filled her 
breast, though she told herself that perhaps diplomacy might be more 
successful than threats. 

“ It is because I have stayed so long,” he said, half mockingly ; and 
then, speaking once more in his low, passionate tones — the tones Helen 
had thought so musical in the drawing-room of their home at the 
station — he -whispered : 

“ I could not have hoped for so great a change. You are a thousand 
times more beautiful than you were before.” 

Helen essayed to speak, but her emotion choked her utterance ; and 
always watchful of his slightest movement, she still sat with her eye- 
lids drooping, and he went on in excellent English, but with the meta- 
phorical imagery so loved of Eastern people : 

“Always beautiful; but now, robed as a princess of my nation, 
decked with Malayan fiowers, your white skin softened to the sun- 
kissed nature of a beauty of our land, you shine before me like some 
star.” 

Still she remained silent, and he went on : 

“ They have done their work well, and could you but see your beauty 


MURAD AT HOME. 233 ' 

\rith these eyes of mine, you would not wonder that I should have 
thought the hours weary that kept me from your side. Helen — beauti- 
ful Helen, you used not to hide those eyes from mine. Look up ; let me see 
them once again. We are alone here now. No prying creatures of 
your English people can see us. I have pr.ayed to Allah that this hour 
might come, and now that I am here, humble — thy very slave — where 
is thy look of welcome — where is the tender look ? For in thy maiden 
coyness say what thou wilt ; but let thine eyes speak to me of love as 
they used so often at thy English home.” 

“ How dare you ! ” she cried, finding words at last ; “ how dare you 
insult me by such a speech ! ” and she rose imperiously from her seat. 

“ How dare you have me dragged from my home like this, and sub- 
mitted by your orders to this disgraceful treatment, to make me look 
like one of your degraded race? ” 

“ If my race be degraded,” he said, quietly, “ I try to elevate it by 
choosing you.” 

“ I desire — I insist, sir, that you have me taken to my father now — 
at once.” . 

The Rajah smiled, and crossed his arms over his breast. 

“Let me think,” he said. “Take you back? No ; I could not take 
you back save as my Avife. Your English people would have me shot.” 

“You were my father’s guest, sir,” continued Helen. “You Were 
admitted to his house as friend, and you have behaved to him with the 
b;isest treachery. See ! Look at me 1 It was by your orders I w'tis 
disfigured thus ! ” 

“ Treachery ! ” he said, quietly. “ No, there was no treachery, when 
I came as a prince and rajah, and said to the English merchant, ‘ I love 
your daughter: I will stoop and make her my wife.’ ” 

“ Stoop ! ” cried Helen, with a flash of her beautiful eyes. 

“Yes,” he said, “ stoop ! She has confessed her love ! ” 

“ It is false ! ” cried Helen. 

“ Not with words, but with her fierce, dark eyes,” he continued. “ ‘ I 
shall offend my people, but what of that? Love is all-powerful. I 
will dismiss all my wives, and she shall reign alone.’ I Avent and said 
all that, as an English gentleman -would have asked your hand, and 
what folloAved ? ” 

Helen’s eyes were fixed upon him sternly, and her heart condemned 
her, but she did not speak. 

“ I was treated Avith contempt and insult ! I — I, Prince and Rajah 
here, Avas shown that I, who had stooped to love a woman of an infidel 
race, had been mocked and played Avith by the beautiful English maiden; 
and at that moment, Helen, had I seen you, I should have killed you 
with my kris, and then, in ray mad rage, I would have done as my 
people do — run headlong here and there, killing and slaying as I went, 
my bare kris dripping Avith the blood I spilt— running amok, my people 
call it — and killing till they sleAV me Avhere I ran. I, ’as a Malay, should 
have done all this. It is the custom among my people ; but your 
English ways prevailed. I had learned English, and I, as a Prince, 
after my first Avild rage was past, said that I must Avait — be patient — 
and that the time Avould come Avhen my revenge could be had. 1 


234 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


waited patiently— and waited longer, to see if the lady would be kind 
and gentle to mo once again ; but she would not while she was among 
her people ; so I said I would bring her amongst mine, where she would 
soon learn to be gentle and as kind as she was of old.” 

“ Coward ! ” she cried, fiercely. 

“ I knew you would say that,” he replied, mockingly. “ I knew that 
you would assume to be very angry. You coquettes, as you English 
people call them, always do ; and then, when all your angry, cruel 
things are said, you become tender, and gentle, and sweet. I do not 
mind.” 

Helen stamped her foot with impotent rage, as she felt how justly 
she had been appraised by this half-savage prince ; but she could find 
no words in reply. 

“Your people thought me contented, and that peace was made,” he 
said, laughing. “ I know all. There was a terrible state of fright at 
first, when you refused my hand. I know all, you see. Y^our people 
armed themselves and kept watch. ‘ The people of Murad wdll attack 
us, and take revenge,’ you said, ‘ and we shall be all crushed ; ’ and so 
you armed yourselves. Then you all feared to go to the /He lest there 
should be treachery, and I was watched ; but they did not know my 
ways. I meant to have revenge ; but what good would the blood of all 
your people be to me ? That was not the revenge I wanted. I could 
wait, and I have waited with the result you see. Tliere, is that good 
English ? Do you-understand these my words wxll ? ” 

Helen did not answer, but stood there proud and defiant, though her 
heart quailed as she listened, and thought of the patient way in which 
this man had waited his time. 

“I have had patience,” he said, with a calm smile of superiority, 
which changed, to her horror, to one of earnestness, almost of appeal. 

“ You do not speak,” he continued. “ Must I say more — must I tell 
you how I loved you with all my soul! You made me love you, and 
were not content until I did. You led me on ; you smiled at me, and 
lured me to your side. Your eyes told me you delighted in the passion 
you had roused, and you seemed to triumph in making me your slave. 
Then I asked you to be my wife, and I was cast aside, thrown off to 
make room for another, and I awoke from my dream to find that I had 
only been a plaything of your mocking hour. I was only a Malay — a 
black as your people call me in their contempt — and your father and 
all your people laughed at my pretensions to an English lady’s hand. 
You all told me by your looks and treatment that I was presuming on 
the kindness I had received; but do you think that, though I beat to 
it then, as if you and yours were right, that I, an Eastern Prince, W'ould 
bear this treatment at your hands ? No ; I planted my revenge at once, 
like some tiny seed, and since have watched it grow hour by hour till 
it was time to cut it down ripe and ready to my hand.” 

“Do you hear my words, sir ? ” said Helen, contemptuousl3^ “I 
order you to take me back.” 

“ The slave orders her master to tike her back,” said Murad, quietly, 
“ You English think you have power over all.” 

“ How dare you call me slave 1 ” she cried. 


MURAD AT HOME. 


235 


“ I call you what you are,” ho said, calmly ; “ my wife if you will ; 
if not, one of my lowest slaves. I was your slave once, and would have 
been to the end. Now you are mine.” 

Helen shivered, but she mastered her fear, and exclaimed : 

“Have you reckoned what your punishment will be for. this? Do 
you suppose my people will let this pass ? ” 

“I have weighed all,” he said, coolly. “But let me talk, for 1 
have much to say yet ; I find relief in speaking of it all. Did you 
think that I was going to submit without resentment to the insult you 
had put upon me ? Oh, no ! You did not know what we Malays could 
do. We take a blow', and perhaps bear it then. It may be wise ; but 
w'e never forgive the hand that gives that blow. We hide our suffering 
for a time, but at last we turn and strike. Do you understand me now ? 
The time came at last, and I have turned and struck.” 

Helen remained silent, listening to his words, which sounded like a 
sentence of death ; but she still fought hai’d not to show her terror, 
and kept up her defiant, half-contemptuous gaze as he went on : 

“ I hid all my sufferings, and patiently bore with all your cruelty, 
seeing without a word how you lavished your smiles upon this one and 
that, and all wdthout making a sign ; but all the time I was w'aiting, 
and telling myself that some day you should pay me for all this suffer- 
ing ; and when the good time came I said to my people, ‘ Take her and 
carry her to the house in the jungle ; let her people think she is dead,’ 
and it was done.” 

“And now that it has been done,” cried Helen, “your plans are 
known. You have been followed, and you will have to suffer as you de- 
serve — death is the punishment to the cowaixlly native hand that is 
raised against an English lady.” 

“Nonsense!” he said, laughing. “I have taken my steps better 
than that;” and his words w'hich followed chilled Helen, as they 
robbed her of a hope. “ No one saw you taken but that dreamy priest 
of your people, and he has been taken too. He wanders through our 
jungle finding flowers and plants, forgetting you half his time.” 

“ It is false ! ” cried Helen. “ He was here to-day.” 

“Yes, he -was here to-day,” said Murad, coolly, “and he has been 
taken back. He did not follow you. Do you suppose me so weak that 
I should let your people know Avhei'e you had gone ? ” 

“They must — they will know— that it is you who have done this 
cruel wrong,” she cried, indignantly. 

“No,” he said, with a contemptuous laugh. “It is very easy to 
throw dust in English eyes. I will tell you for your comfort, and to 
make you settle to your fate, the people at the station think I am their 
friend, and that I have been helping them with my people to find you. 
And now you are only living in their hearts.” 

“ In their hearts ? ” cried Helen, starting ; and her thoughts involun- 
tarily turned to Neil Harley. 

“ Yes,” he said, quietly ; “ they think you dead.” 

“ Dead ! ” she cried, in spite of her efforts to be calm. 

“ Yes ; they believe you dead, and so you are to them. Helen the 
Englishwoman is dead, and this is a beautiful Malay — my wife.” 


236 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Dead ? ” she cried again, for his announcement came like a terrible 
shock. 

“ Yes ; they found a boat down the river far below the station. They 
think you went with two of your lovers on the water, and that the 
boat filled and sank, to be washed up on a bank. It was well managed, 
and Helen and three of her friends or lovers are mourned as dead.” 

“ Mr. Harley is not prisoned too? ” cried Helen. 

“ No : he is not a lover,” said the Sultan, smiling. 

“ Oh, Heaven help me ! ” muttered Helen. 

“ So you are dead to them,’' he said, quiotl3\ “ Helen Perowne, the 
beautiful English girl, is no more, and in her place lives the Malay 
princess I see before me now. Ah, Helen, no one would know you. It 
is only I who have the knowledge of the change. What is it to be — 
my honoured wife or slave ? ” 

“ It is horrible ! ” thought Helen, as now she realized more fully the 
extent of the iniquitous plot of Avhich she had been made the victim. 
By Murad’s words the hopes of succour she had nurtiired had been 
swept one by one away, for she did not doubt him in the least, but felt 
her heart sink as she realized how helpless her position w'as, for his 
words seemed to carry truth with them, and she knew that she alone 
was to blame. * 

Then she started violently, and shrank back towards the wall, for 
he had taken a step or two towards her and stretched out his hands. 


CHAPTER LIX. 

AT BAY. 

Tub Rajah stopped w’hen Helen shrank away, as if he did not wish to 
alarm her unduly. 

“ Why do you shrink from me ? ” he said, with a laugh. “ You 
were not so timid when I talked with you after dinner, and you invited 
me with smiles to stay by your side. Did you think when you began 
to play with my love that it was of the same cold stuff as that of your 
poor, weak English wooers ? ” 

Helen made no reply, but gazed at him watchfully, meaning to 
elude his grasp and run to the door, should he approach her again. 

“ Your English wooers’ hearts are like ice, and their love is cold ; 
while that of a Malay, under his calm, quiet demeanour, glows like fire, 
and once kindled, is nevermore extinct. Do you hear me, Helen ? 
Once you set it burning with the light of love, his heart flames until it 
ceases to beat. There, why be angry with me, and try to wither me 
with those cruel looks ? I took you because you made me love you ; 
and as you did make me love you, I shall never believe that you are 
anything but glad that I forced you to be my wife.” 

“ Be yoiir wife ? ” she cried, passionately, in spite of her determina- 
tion not to speak. “ I would sooner die ! ” 

“ Yes,” he replied, with a contemptuous laugh, “ that is what all 


AT BAY. 


237 


M-omen say. The girls who waited upon you said just the same. They 
told me they hated me, and ended by hanging upon my neck and calling 
me husband and their own. Tell me you hate me ! ” he cried, with his 
dark eyes seeming to flash ; “ tell me you will have me killed for what 
I have done — tell me you will never look upon my face again, and make 
those beautiful eyes dart anger at me. It makes me happier than I can 
tell you, for I know that the storm will pass away ; and when the 
lightning of your eyes and their rain of tears have gone, the sunshine of 
your love will gladden my heart. Helen, I have waited for you — oh, so 
long ! ” 

He took another step or two forward, and was about to catch her 
hand in his, but she avoided his touch and fled to the window. 

“ Come a step nearer to me,” she panted, her face convulsed with 
dread, “ and I will call for help.” 

“Nonsense ! ” he said, with a smile. “Why should you call ? Is it 
for the birds to hear ? The tigers will not awaken till ’tis night. Why 
should you weary yourself and hurt that sweet-tuned throat ? Call for 
help ? Who would hear you call ? ” 

“ Your people ! ” she panted, as her dread increased. “ They are 
here below I ” 

“ Y'es,” ho said, “ they are here below and about the place, but they 
are deaf. Y^ou forget that I am not the poor Malay, looked down 
upon with disdain by your proud English friends, but Prince and 
Rajah. You would make my servants and my slaves hear, but not one 
would stir. You do not understand my power, Helen — the power of 
the man you scorned ! Should one of my people dare to come here ere 
I summoned him, he would die ! ” 

“It is not true ! ” cried Helen, with spirit. “ Knowing who I am, 
they would come, and if I appealed to them, protect me.” 

Murad laughed a contemptuous, cynical laugh. 

“ Y^ou forget where you are,” he said. “ This is one of my homes, 
and this is my land. I am poor Rajah Murad whom you look upon 
with contempt at Sindang station ; but hero I am the people’s Lord. 
Who dare contradict me or disobey commands ? Not one. For the 
life or death of my people rests with me. So, you may leave that win- 
dow, and accept your lot ! ” 

Helen did not move. 

“ There, put away all that silly woman’s play ! ” he cried. “ I tell 
you it is like my foolish native girls behave. You are an English lady, 
and should be wiser. Come, let us bo friends at once, and I will * 
become more English for your sake. You will forgive me for bringing 
you away ; it was the love I bore you made me act as I did. You will 
forgive me, will you not ? Have I not had you made ten times more 
beautiful than you wore before ? ” 

He made a feint, and then a couple of quick strides towards her, and 
this time caught her by the wrist; but in her dread and horror she 
wrenched it away, and struck him sharply across the face as she would 
have struck at some noxious beast ; and as he started back in surprise, 
she bounded to the door, and tried to wrench it open. 

Murad’s love appeared to turn in a moment to furious hate ; his eyes 


238 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF, 


darkened and seemed to emit a lurid light ; his teeth appeared between 
his lips, which were drawn apart like those of some wild beast, and the 
man’s savage nature blazed out in a moment under the affront. In an 
instant his hand sought the hilt of his kris, and tearing the weapon 
from its sheath, he pursued his prisoner as she fled fi’ora? him shrieking 
round the room. 

Helen fled from him but for a few moments, and then she stopped 
short and faced him, offering herself to his blow. 

This brave act disarmed him, checking his rage, which seemed to 
have flashed out, and his English education began to tell. Muttering 
impatiently, he thrust the kris back into its sheath, and uttered a forced 
laugh. 

“ Foolish girl ! ” he cried, “ why did you strike me ? It is folly ! 
It makes me angry. A Malay never forgives a blow ; -but you have 
made me English, and I forgive you because — because you make me 
fond. But it w'as wild and foolish. I give you my love, you play with 
me and strike me a blow. A woman should not strike the man she 
loves.” 

Helen did not reply, but rushed to, and tore furiously at the door. 

“ Why do you tire yourself ? ” he cried, with a contemptuous laugh. 
“ What good can you do ? I tell you once again my people dare not stir 
to help you, even if you wished ; and I know enough of woman’s nature 
to tell that, from such a finished coquette as you have always been, 
this is but a false show of dread,” 

Helen’s despair grew deeper as she listened to the Rajah’s words, and 
reading her thoughts aright, he went on calmly enough : 

“I do not mind. You know I love you, and at heart I believe you 
love me. But what matter if you do not ? You will when you are my 
wife. You will be quite contented here, and very soon forget your own 
people and their ways. It will be a change for an English beauty to 
become a Malay princess, and you shall even have a new name. Still 
angry ? There, pray calm down. It is because I had you fetched so 
suddenly away ; for I know you, Helen. You are not weeping for any 
other lover. Out of so many you could care for none more than for 
me.” 

Still Helen did not reply, but stood at bay, her eyes dilated, and 
backing from him whenever he made as if to approach her, till, with 
a scornful laugh, he gave up the pursuit and threw himself carelessly 
upon one of the divans. 

“ Why should I weary myself by running after you ? ” he said, with 
a mocking laugh. “ That is all past, and you must plead to me. Foolish 
girl, how could you return even if you wished ! They think you dead, 
and who would know Helen Perowne in you ? ” 

She started a little here, and he noted it and smiled, 

“ I have waited and can wait still, for I know that as soon as this fit 
is over you will creep to my feet like any other slave I have. I know 
vmat you are thinking — that you will escape.” 

“ And mark my words, I shall ! ” cried Helen, impetuously. 

“ Don’t try it,” he said, smiling. “ Don’t try it, for your own sake 
as well as mine. It sounds cruel, but it is a custom of this country to 


AT BAY. 


239 


spear a slave -wlio is seen to run a-way ; and if my people fail to take 
you, and I do not think they would, the tigers would prove less merci- 
ful. You must have heard them when the night has come ; they roam 
about this place, and the more I kill them the more they seem to come. 

“ What ! ** he said, laughing. “ you would rather trust to the tender 
mercies of the beasts than trust to me I I read it in your scornful eyes, 
but that is not true, or time back you would not have looked tenderly in 
mine and sighed and pressed my hand at parting.” 

He laughed aloud as he saw her shrink and cower away in her abase- 
ment for very shame. She was reaping now the fruits of her career of 
folly ; and if ever woman bitterly repente'd her weakness and the trifling 
of which she had been guilty in her love of admiration, that woman was 
Helen Perowne as she stood there shamefaced and crushed as it were by 
the thoughts of the past. 

“ That is right,” he said, quietly. “ You are thinking of the past. 
But never mind ; that is all gone now. It was English Helen who was 
so weak ; it is Malay Helen who will become strong. My people have 
done well, and how it becomes you ! Your friends would never know 
you now.” 

What should she do ? 

Helen’s hands closed, and her fingers were tightly enlaced as she 
tried to find a way out of her difficulties. She knew that threats would 
be in vain, and supplication to him to set her free like so many wasted 
words. There was no way out but by gaining the mastery over her 
enemy once more. Her enemy ! But he must be treated like a friend. 
Only a few brief months back, and this man, at whose mercy she now 
was, seemed the veriest slave. Well, why not once again ? she asked 
herself. She was as young and beautiful as ever they said. He loved 
her — ho must love her — and why should she not sway him by this love ? 
It was her only hope, and she grasped at it to try. 

“ Well,” he said, smiling mockingly, “ will you not find a place here 
by my side ? ” 

She was silent for a few moments, and then, making an effort : 

“ You have done me a cruel injury, Bajah,” she exclaimed, her voice 
trembling, but becoming firmer with each word she spoke. 

“ Injury ! ” he said, smiling ; and his eyes glittered at the success that 
promised to attend his plans. “Oh, no: not injury. It can be no 
injury to a beautiful woman to make her the wife of a rich Malay prince 
— one who loves her with all his heart — a rajah who loves your English 
ways, and who will surround you with everything you wish.” 

“ You will give me my liberty ? ” said Helen. 

“ Yes,” he said ; “ whatever my beautiful princess can desire.” 

She made a gesture full of impatience, and remained silent for a few 
moments to gather calmness before she spoke again. 

“ You have spoken of the past, Kajah Murad,” she said at last, in a 
low, musical voice. 

“ Yes,” he said, smiling; “ that happy past.” 

“ I was very weak and foolish then, Bajah,” she said. “ I was but 
a girl, and I fear loved admiration. It was that which made me 
act so foolishly and ill. But wlien I tell you my sorrow for my acts — 

16 


240 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


when I tell you how bitterly I repent it all — you will forgive me, and 
will take me back ? ” 

“ For your people to seize me and shoot me like a dog ? ” he said, 
quietly. 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” she cried ; “ they would not do you harm. You will 
have taken me back, and for this they shall not do you ill.” 

“ Speak again like that,” he cried, with his eyes lighting up. ” That 
makes you look more beautiful than you were before.” 

She started and shuddered, but she went on : 

“ I ask your forgiveness for the wrong I, in my foolish, girlish wilful- 
ness, did yo\i ; and now that you have punished me so severely as you 
have, you will pardon me. Rajah — the weak, helpless woman w'ho prays 
you to send her back.” 

“ I punish you ! ” he cried, with an affectation of surprise. “ I would 
not punish you. To keep you with me it was necessary that you 
should look like these my people, and I was sorry to give orders that it 
should be done. I half feared the result ; but I do not repent it now 
that I have seen how it makes you more beautiful than ever.” 

“ But you will take me back to my father ? ” she pleaded. “ I will 
foi’give everything. I will not ‘breathe a word about this outrage. 
No one shall know that it was Rajah Murad who took me from my 
home. Only send me back safel}', and I will bless you.” 

He laughed softly. 

“There are steps some men take,” he said, “that can never bo 
retraced, and this I have done is one of those steps. You are a woman 
of sense, and know your people. 1 staked all upon this cast, and I 
have won. If I give way now, what will the English people, who are 
so proud of their honour, say to the beauty of their station, who comes 
back to them darkened like one of us ? What will they say to the lady 
who comes back to them after so many da^'s in Rajah Murad’s harem ?'” 

Helen started as if she had been stung, and her eyes flashed their 
indignation at this cowardly speech. 

But she felt directly after that anger would be useless — that she 
must gain time; and once more trembling in every limb, she forced 
herself to plead. 

“I have some mastery over him,” she thought, and determining to 
retain, and if possible strengthen it, she forced back every semblance of 
anger, and placed her hands together in supplication. 

“ You told me once that you loved me,” she said softly. 

“ I told you once ? I have told myself I loved you a thousand times,” 
he cried, passionatel3\ 

“ Then you would not disgrace me in the eyes of my people ? ” she 
pleaded. 

“ No,” ho cried, “ I would not ; I love you far too well.” 

“ Then set me free — send me back to ray home.” 

“That would be to disgrace you, foolish girl,” he cried. “ Do you 
not see why I took this' step ? You made me love you, and when 3^011 
cast me off', I tell you I made a vow that you should still be mine. I 
had you brought here. Well, I am as jealous of your honour as you 
are yourself. You cannot leave here but as my wife.” 


CHUMBLEY’S IDEA. 


241 


A sob of rage and indignation choked Helen’s utterance for the 
moment, but she mastered it once more and turned upon him. 

“ Is this your love for me,” she cried, “ to cause me this dreadful 
pain ? ” 

“ Pain perhaps now,” he said, quietly ; “ but happiness will come for 
both. You proud and foolish girl, you do not know what it is to bo 
wife of a prince such as I am. Let your people go. Mine will do far 
more honour to their new princess : they will worship you. They must 
and shall. There, I see you are listening to what I say. You are 
growing sensible ; let this strange feeling wear away. Be gentle to 
me, Helen — love — and be content to sta}” ! ” 

Helen’s brow grew wrinkled, and her eyes were half closed as she 
stood there with clasped hands, asking herself how she should act. 
She was checked at every double, and the hopelessness of her position 
had never appeared more strongly to her than it did now. Her eyes 
wandered to the door, to the window, and then to the Kajah, as he 
half reclined upon the mats, gazing at her with a smiling, satisfied 
look, as if watching the feeble efforts made by his captive to escape 
from his toils. 

“ Well,” he said, laughing, “ has the fit of anger passed away? If 
not, I can wait.” 

She did not answer, but stood gazing at him with a piteous look in 
her eyes — gazing so pleadingly that he sprang to his feet, a change 
coming over his countenance as he approached her. 

Helen’s heart gave one great throb of joy, for she read now in his 
face the power she had over him still. He really loved her, and it was 
he who was the slave, not she, and she would yet be able to mould him 
to her will. 

But not by anger and reproach : they woxild only weaken her position. 
She had found that he was one "who might be moved by her woman’s 
grief and tears, and, acting upon the impulse of the moment, she 
waited until he was close at hand, and then, before he could stay her, 
she sank upon her knees, to clasp his hands in hers, and gazing in his 
face, burst into a passionate flood of tears. 


CHAPTER LX. 
ciiumbley’s idea. 

“CiiUMBLEY,” said Bertie Hilton, “your behaviour towards that 
woman was sickening — almost disgusting ! How you could be even 
civil to her is more than I can understand !” 

“Oh, I’m always civil to a woman,” drawled Chumbley. “See 

how affable I always was to Helen Perowne, who ” 

“Will you have the goodness to leave Miss Perowne’s name out of 
the conversation? ” said Hilton, with asperity. 

“Certainly, if you wish it, and substitute little Stuart’s name. 
See how civil I always was to her.” 


242 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“A merit, certainly,” said Hilton, contemptuously. “Who could 
help being civil to so amiable and good a little body ! 

“Here, hang it, Bertie, old man!” cried Chumbley, in mock 
alarm, “ don’t monopolize all the nice -women. It -was Helen Perowne 
the other day. No-w you seem dead on little Stuart I” 

“Confound Helen Pero-wne !” muttered Hilton, bitterly. 

“Just as you like; and confound the Inche Maida too — I shan’t! 
Sort of sympathetic pity for -woman — weaker vessels, you know.” 

“Weaker vessel?” laughed Hilton, scornfully; “what, our 
captor ?” 

“ Well, she i.‘n’t a bad sort of woman,” replied Chumbley. 

“Not a bad sort of woman? Why, she’s a modern Jezebel — a 
Cleopatra — a Semiramis I” 

“Think so? ” said Chumbley, quietly. 

“Think so? Of course! I’m getting terribly tired of this cap- 
tivity ! I must get away somehow. How many days have we been 
here ? ” 

“Week,” said Chumbley, laconically. 

“A week of weeks it seems to me,” said Hilton. “Horrible 
woman !” 

“ Well, I don’t know,” said Chumbley, “she seems to possess very 
great taste.” 

“ Taste ? The savage ! ” 

“Well, great taste in taking a fancy to you. I think you ought to 
be very proud. ” 

“Proud? I sicken with disgust! Pah! Don’t let’s talk about 
her, but try and make some plan to escape.” 

“ Well, yes, I suppose we must do that ; but ’pon my word, old 
fellow, I don’t see how. I wish old Bolter were here.” 

“ I wish Mrs. Bolter were here to tackle this dreadful woman !” 
laughed Hilton. ‘ “We men can’t manage her ; but that clever, sharp 
little body would bring her to her senses. What do you want Bolter 
for?” 

“ Oh, he’d mix up a dose for the guards, and give it to them in their 
tea, or whatever they drink ; then they’d go to sleep, and we could 
calmly walk back to the fort. ” 

“I wonder what Harley thinks of our absence ? ” 

■“ Thinks we’re dead, probably, and reposing happily each of us in 
a crocodile sarcophagus. Well, Bertie, old man, what’s to be done? 
The Inche Maida has quite cut us it seems, and we’re all alone, I 
suppose. Come, what’s to be done to get us out of this plight? 
You’re quite right, old fellow : it is most absurd ! ” 

“ Absurd ? It is disgraceful ! I feel as if we were not men, but a 
couple of silly girls ! ” 

“ With beards,” said Chumbley. 

“ And now give me your advice.” 

“ Well, that’s soon done,” replied Chumbley. “ I’ve quite made up 
my mind what advice I shall give.” 

“Well, what?” 

“ Do you mean what shall we do ? ** * . 


CHUMBLEY’S IDEA. 


243 


“ Yes ; of course.” 

“ Nothing.” 

Hilton uttered an ejaculation that was far from pious, and began 
to fume and fret, till Chumbley rose in his slow, cumbrous fashion, 
placed a cigar in his friend’s hand, and bade him smoke it. 

“Look here, old fellow,” ho said, quietly, “if we are to escape 
it can only be when a chance offers itself ; and if you will bring 
your profound wisdom to bear upon the matter, you will see that all 
we can do is to wait for that chance.” 

“ And until that chance comes we must put up with this wretched 
woman’s insults !” 

“Yes, if you like to call them so ; and I’d do it, old fellow, without 
getting into a bad temper and calling names, seeing ” 

“ Seeing what ? ” 

“ That she tries to make up for her rather unladylike conduct by 
being very civil ; while her cooking is good, the dinners excellent, and 
the breakfasts, the wines well chosen, and the cigars — there, did you 
ever smoke a better than that ? ” 

“Oh, pish! Everyone can’t take things as quietly as you do, 
Chum.” 

“Poor fellows, no,” said the latter, with a satisfied air. “ It’s the 
only quality I possess of which I am really proud. You see it makes 
me perfectly well suited for this climate, for no troubles or worries 
ever put me in a perspiration. I wish, though, we had a chess-board 
and men.” 

“ Chess-board ! men !” retorted Hilton, laughing, in a half-amused, 
half-vexed tone ; “ who in the world could ever think of playing, 
chess ! Heally, Chumbley, I believe you are quite happy and con- 
tented.” 

“ Well, not so bad, dear boy — not so bad now the novelty and the 
unpleasantry of the affair have worn off. You see, a fellow has only 
so long to live. Well, isn’t it a pity to spoil any of that time by making 
yourself miserable if you can help it ? Take my advice and behave as 
young Jacob Faithful suggested, * Take it coolly ;’ and as the sailor in 
another story I once read said, ‘ If you can’t take it coolly, soldier, 
take it as coolly as you can.’ ” 

Hilton bit the end of his cigar and then bit his lips ; lay back think- 
ing of Helen and then of Gray Stuart, the latter obtaining the larger 
portion of his thoughts. 

As for Chumbley, he lay back on his divan and smoked, and thought 
it was very tiresome to be detained there, but granted that it was better 
than being detained in hospital from wounds or sickness ; and as time 
wore on, Hilton, removed from the cares and anxieties of being one 
of Helen’s lovers, settled doAvn more and more into an imitation of 
his friend’s coolness, his common-sense teaching him that Chumbley 
was right, and that his best chance of escaping was by waiting for his 
opportunity — whenever that opportunity should come. 

They had not seen anything of the Princess for some days, for she 
had evidently left them to cool doAvn ; but they had been admirably 
treated, and had grown a little less impatient of their prison, when 


244 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


ono day a Malay servant entered their room, and ■with the most pro- 
found respect announced that the Inche Maida a'waited the English 
chiefs in another room. 

“ Well, that’s not such bad treatment of prisoners, if it don’t mean 
a polite summons to execution. You first, old fello'w; I’m only here 
as your confidential man.” 

As he spoke, Chumbley rose slowly, left his hookah, and prepared to 
follow the servant ; while Hilton frowned, declared that it was all very 
ridiculous, but smoothing his countenance, he followed the Malay, and 
was ushered by him into a similar room to that which they had left, 
to find dinner laid out in a by no means un tempting style, the Malay 
fashion being largely supplemented by additions that the Princess 
had not been slow to copy from her English friends. 

The Inche Maida was elegantly dressed, as Chumbley said, like her 
table, for her costume was as much European as Malayan, her long 
sweeping robe, and the delicate lace cap that rested upon her magni- 
ficent black hair, having a decidedly Parisian look, while her scarf was 
the simple sarong of her country, glowing with bright colours. 

She smiled as they entered; but her demeanour was full of dignity, 
as she offered Hilton her hand, that he might lead her to the table. 

Hilton drew himself up and was evidently about to refuse. The 
next moment he relented, and took a step forward, but he was too late 
to pay his hostess the compliment she asked, for she had turned to 
Chumbley, who held out his arm and led her to the head of the table, 
retiring afterwards to the foot, and facing her, while Hilton took the 
place upon the Princess’s right. 

Perfectly unaware of Helen Perowne’s position, the two prisoners, 
under the genial influences of a good dinner and unexceptionable wine, 
while granting that their situation was perfectly absurd, were ready to 
acknowledge that after all it would be nonsense to do otherwise than 
accept it, make the best of it, and refuse to be angry about a foolish 
woman’s freak. 

“I won’t be disagreeable any more,” thought Hilton, “but take 
things as they come, and be off at the first opportunity.” 

“ ’Pon my word,” thought Chumbley, “ this is better than that hot 
room at the fort. One always seems to be swallowing hot sunshine 
like melted butter with everything there one eats.” 

The result was that Hilton forgot all about Helen Perowne for the 
time, and found himself comparing Cray Stuart with the Inche Maida 
as the two opposite poles of womanly beauty — the acme of the dark, 
and the acme of the fair. But his thoughts were to a great extent 
turned from the ladies to the dinner, and following Chumbley’s 
example, he ate heartily, drank pretty liberally of the wine — to drown 
care, he said — and by the time that the dessert was commenced he had 
concluded that life would after all be bearable without the society of 
Helen Perowne, who was, he told himself, a contemptible coquette. 

He recanted from that declaration soon afterwards, the terms being, 
he thought, too hard ; and then he fell into a state of wonderment at 
his contented frame of mind. 

“I shall begin to think soon that the wound is after all not very deep.’* 


CIIUMBLEY’S IDEA. 


245 


** Your^ friend seems to be getting resigned to his lot,” said the 
Princess, in a low voice to Chumbley, as, after dinner, they sat by the 
open windoAv with a little table covered with fruit by their side, Hilton 
having kept his place. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Chumbley, thoughtfully; and then, to 
turn the conversation into another channel, “ How do you manage to 
get such good claret here ? ” 

“Oh,” she said, laughing, “lam able to get most things here to 
help out the wants of our country. It is easy to have such things from 
yingapore. You like it ? ” 

“It is delicious.” 

“lam glad,” she said, with a satisfied smile. “ I reserve it for my 
best friends.” 

“Then why give it to us, your prisoners— and enemies?” said 
Chumbley, sharply. 

“ I was trying to show you that you were my friends, and not my 
enemies,” said the Princess, quietly. 

“But you treat us like prisoners, Princess.” 

“ Only for your good. You shall both be free and lords of the place 
whenever you will.” 

“ But, my dear madam,” said Hilton, from his place by the larger 
table, “ this is the nineteenth century — Chumbley, a little more claret ? 
You seize us as a baron might have seized people three or four hundred 
years ago, and yet you treat us as an English lady would her guests.” 

“ It is what 1 have tried to do — this treatment,” she said, simply. 
Then with spirit, “ What is it to me what people did a long while 
back ? I hope, Mr. Chumbley, you are satisfied.” 

“ With my dinner ? ” said the latter. “ Yes, perfectly, for my part. 
It only wants a cup of coffee.” 

“ Not poisoned ? ” said the Princess, with a laughing, malicious look 
at her guest, as she thus recalled to him his suspicions at the fete. 

As she spoke she clapped her hands, and coffee was brought in little 
silver cups upon a silver tray. 

“Hilton, old man,” said Chumbley, as he took and liberally sugared 
a cup of coffee, smiling at the Inche Maida as he spoke. 

“ Well ? ” said his companion in misfortune. 

“ I have quite made up my mind, as I before hinted, not to knock 
the feathers off my noble breast against the bars of my cage.” 

The Princess looked puzzled. 

“ Pshaw I ” ejaculated Hilton ; “ don’t be absurd.” 

“ Why not ? If to bo patient in our present awkward position is 
being absurd. Won’t you take coffee. Princess? ” 

She shook her head, but altered her mind directly. 

“Yes,” she said; and she took the cup Chumbley offered with a 
smile, while as he provided himself with a second, he nodded and said 
to himself: 

“That’s very ladylike; so that we should not feel suspicious, I 
presume.” . 

_ “ Ask her how long she means to keep on with this theatrical folly,” 
said Hilton, in a low voice to his friend — in French. 


246 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ What does he say ? ” cried the Princess, quickly. ' 

“He asks if you are still in earnest about keeping us prisoners,” 
said Chumbley. “ If you are serious.” 

“ Earnest ? Serious ? ” she replied, •with her eyes flashing. “ Should 
I have taken such a step as this, and risked offending your people, if I 
were not serious ? Suppose I let you go — what then ? ” 

“If Hilton has his own way,” said Chumbley, laughing, “ there will 
bo an expedition to come and burn your place about your ears for 
abducting two of her Majesty’s subjects.” 

“ No, no — no, no ! ” cried the Inche Maida, with a negative motion 
of her hand. “ You would not be so cowardly as to come and attack a 
weak woman ; that is for the Malays to do. You English are too 
brave and strong. I am not afraid.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” said Chumbley ; “wo might, you know.” 

“ Oh, no, I won’t believe it.” 

“ Well, perhaps not,” said Chumbley, drily ; “ but history has a few 
ugly little records of English doings here and there. Do you know, 
madam, that you have given us an excellent excuse to pay you a peculiar 
visit ? ” 

“What! to come and attack and destroy my home — to kill my 
people?” cried the Princess, excitedly. “You could not — you dare 
not. But I am safe. I shall not let you go ; and as to my other 
enemies, in a short time you will both be reconciled to your lot, and 
you will say, ‘ Let me stop and defend you.’ ” 

“Hope told a flattering tale,” muttered Chumbley, as he saw the 
- Princess watching Hilton as she spoke ; but his distant mien and con- 
temptuous looks so annoyed her that she turned from him angrily and 
addressed herself to his friend, as if for him to speak. 

“Well,” said the latter, coolly, “I am an Englishman, and I like 
fair play, so I shall speak out. Look here ; you know. Princess, it 
won’t do.” 

“ What do I know that will not do ? ” she said, in a puzzled way. 

“Why, this foolish kidnapping business of yours ; and I frankly tell 
you that, much .as we shall regret leaving such charming qiiarters, if 
you only leave the birds’ cage door open for a moment we shall pop out 
and fly away.” 

“I do not quite know what you mean about your birds in cages and 
your kidnapping,” said the Princess, haughtily ; “ but I suppose you 
mean that you will go.” 

“ Exactly,” said Chumbley, coolly. 

“ Then,” said the Princess, “I should have thought for the favours 
I offer yo\i — the great position and brilliant prospects — ^you would bo 
grateful now you have had time to reflect, instead of treating mo with 
disdain.” 

“ Well,” replied Chumbley, in his dry way, ** that’s the nature of the 
English animal.” 

“ Talk sensibly,” said Hilton, in French ; “ why do you go on in that 
flippant way — why do you keep on arguing with her ? ” • 

“Because you Avill not,” retorted Chumbley, in the same language; 
“so hold yqur tongue. You see, Princess,” he continued, “you don’t 


CHUMBLEY’S IDEA. 


247 


understand the British nature, and this is how it is. If we fellows 
could not get those positions ypu offer, we might make a struggle 
for them ; but as you offer them, and tell we must have them, you 
set all our bristles erect, and we vow we will not have them at any 
price. No : my dear madam, you have gone the wrong way to work, 
and it will not do.” 

The Inche Maida recoiled, as if the obstacles she was encountering 
stung her to the quick. She had evidently been under the impression 
that her patience and the treatment to which she had subjected her 
prisoners would have had a different effect, whereas they were as dis- 
dainful and obstinate as ever. 

“ You will think better of this,” she cried, impatiently 

Hilton made a sign as if to negative her words. 

“ Then if you reject kindness I shall try harshness,” she cried, her 
dark eyes flashing as she spoke. “ I am Princess here, and my slaves 
obey me. I will have you starved into submission.” 

Hilton smiled. 

“ Tell her she doesn’t know what an Englishman is, Chumbley, ho 
said, scornfully ; “ or no — be silent. Do not insult her, but treat her 
words with contempt.” 

“ He need not tell me,” said the Inche Maida, starting up and looking 
furious as her eyes literally glittered in her rage. “ I know, sir, what 
some Englishmen are — cold, proud, and haughty; men who think 
themselves almost gods in their conceit ; while all who are not pale- 
faced like themselves they treat as dogs. Gro to your prison, sir, and 
you shall learn that, proud and contemptuous as you are, there are 
others who can be as proud and cold.” 

Chumbley was about to speak, but she waved him back. 

“I brought you to my place that I might make you lord, master, 
and defender of my people. You thrust my favours from you. Let it 
be so. You shall hot enjoy them. Stay as my prisoner till I please to 
free you, and then go back to your people, and beg, and fawn, and ask 
Helen Perowne to give you one of the smiles and sweet looks that she 
shares among so many.” 

“ I cannot bear this ! ” muttered Hilton, turning purple with rage. 

“ Hold your tongue ! Don’t be an idiot,” growled Chumbley. “It 
is only a woman speaking.” 

“Idiot! ’’exclaimed the Inche Maida, who just caught the word. 
“ She will not have you when you do go back, for by this time she is 
someone’s wife.” 

“ I do not believe you ! ” cried Hilton, angrily. 

“You may,” she replied, with an angry gesture. “Now listen ; I 
can be generous, but I can be hard as well, and I shall keep you my 
prisoner. I have brought you here, and I have done with you ; I reject 
you. I would not listen to you now if you went upon your knees to 
me. I could not bear it, for I should know then it was only false. I 
say I shall keep you here for my own safety now; but though I have 
cast you off, I would not have your blood upon my hands. Kemember, 
my people are charged to watch you, and they are Malays — faithful 
to the death. They would have been faithful to you, my lord, but 


248 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


you have refused. Now listen. My orders will be' obeyed, as they 
were when I said I wish those two English chiefs brought here unhurt. 
Mind this, then: any attempt at escape will end in your falling by 
either kris or spear. Now go.” 

She stood there looking very handsome and disdainful pointing to 
the door, and the two officers had no alternative but to get up and walk 
towards the entry. Here, however, Chumbley paused, and turned 
back to where his imperious captor was standing with flashing eyes. 

“ We ai’e too old friends to quarrel,” he said, good-humouredly. 

Of course we shall try to escape, and we should do so if you had 
twice as many people to guard us. You have done a verv foolish 
thing.” 

“ No I” she cried. “It was my will.” 

“ All the same a very foolish thing in bringing us here. Noav take 
my advice, as a friend : send us back at once.” 

“ No !” she cried, fiercely. 

“ Yes ; for your own sake.” 

“ No,” she cried, “ leave me.” 

“ I promise you,” he continued, “ that I will do all I can to hush the 
matter up. You will be reasonalfle. I should not like to see so bravo 
and good a woman come to grief.” 

“ Go ! Leave me !” she cried, fiercely. “ I will not listen. I am a 
Malay Princess, and he has insulted and wronged me.” 

“ Well : there,” said Chumbley, “ I’m going. Good night.” 

Ho held out his broad white hand, but the Inche Maida raised hers 
and struck at it angrily, her palm descending in Churabley’s with a 
loud pat. 

The young officer only smiled, bent his head, and turned to join 
Hilton in the other room. 

As he reached the door, however, he heard a step ; a hand was laid 
upon his arm, and a hoarse voice whispered : 

“ I am sorry — I was angry — forgive.” 

Hilton had strode to the end of his prison, and thrown himself in a 
dissatisfied frame of mind upon the mats ; the door had swung to, and 
there was a heavy curtain between, so that he did not hear what was 
said, nor see the hearty pressure of the hand that succeeded before 
Chumbley left the dining-room and joined his friend ; while the Malay 
princess stood alone, with her hands clasped, and her bosom heaving. 

“ I have been an idiot, and mad,” she muttered to herself. “ He is 
right ; I have done wrong, but I cannot go back now; I should lose all, 
I do not know these Englishmen. I thought he would have been 
proud and glad, and now he looks down upon me, and I feel so low — 
so crushed— that I could kill myself with rage. Ah I why do I not 
know more of their ways ? lam but a poor, weak savage still, and I 
show my temper like a child.” 

She walked wearily to the window, and stood with her broad forehead 
leaning against the bars, and for quite an hour neither of her womeu 
dared to approach her. 

“ Well, old fellow, feel any better for your dinner ?” said Chumbley, 
heartily, as he strode up to the divan. 


CIIUMBLEY’S IDEA. 


249 


“Dinner? No. Hang the woman; how dare she insult us like 
that ?” chafed Hilton. “ As if there were anything between Helen 
Perowno now and me.” 

“It wjw rather warm upon you, certainly,” said Chumbley; “but 
she was wild, and you were not above a few bitter repartees.” 

“ Bitter ? Why, you are taking the Jezebel’s part !” 

“ Come, come, come, don’t call ugly names,” said Chumbley, sturdily. 

“No name is too bad for such a woman !” cried Hilton. 

“Drop it, I say,” cried Chumbley. “We’ve eaten her dinner and 
drunk her wine. Don’t let’s abuse her now.” 

“Why, hang it. Chum, have you fallen in love with the black 
goddess ?” cried Hilton. “ There, go and beg pardon, then; woo her, 
and wed her. Ha, ha, ha !” he laughed, mockingly, without seeing the 
hot angry spots in his companion’s cheeks. “ I resign in your favour. 
The life -would just suit you. Come : here’s a chance for you to prove 
a good friend to me, most miserable fellow under the sun. Go and tell 
her you will be my hostage. You are big enough.” 

“And ugly enough,” growled Chumbley. 

“You’ll soon get sunburned out here in the jungle. Hail, Rajah 
Chumbley. Thy servant bends the knee.” 

“ You be blow'ed !” said the young officer, speaking like a schoolboy ; 
and the tone of his voice showed so much vexation that Hilton checked 
his banter. “ I’m going to have one pipe,” said Chumbley, “ and then 
I shall have a nap.” 

“ Stop a minute,” said Hilton. “What did she mean about Helen 
being another’s wife ?” he continued, biting at his moustache — “ not 
that I care.” 

“ Goodness knows, unless Murad has carried her oT at the same 
time.” 

“ I say unless Murad has been playing the same game.” 

“Don’t talk like that,” panted Hilton. “I don’t care a sou for the 
girl now : I wouldn’t marry her to save my life ; I couldn’t after her 
base treatment. But Chum, old fellow, that idea of yours is like a 

lance thrust through me, for I did love her, and to come to that Ob, 

Heaven help her! I could not bear that.” 

“ Oh, tush I tush !” said Chumbley, sitting up once more. “ Don’t 
take any notice. An angry woman wdll say anything. It was only a 
fancy of mine. It can’t be true.” 

“ Chum,” said Hilton, in a low whisper, and his voice sounded very 
strange in the gathering darkness, “I beg your pardon for what I 
said. I was bitter and angry.” 

“ All right, old fellow. It’s all gone.” 

“ Then listen. Can we get aw'ay to-night ?” 

“No. Why?” 

“I feel as if I couldn’t stop here after what you said. I tell you I 
hate Helen Perowne now devoutly, but I’d go through fire and water 
to save her from that black scoundrel. Why did you think such a 
thing?” 

“I don’t know ; it came into my head. It appeared possible. YTo 


250 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


wero spirited off, and it seemed so easy for Murad to carry her off in 
the same 'vray. I suppose what the Princess said set me thinking.” 

If she is in his power,” began Hilton. “Oh, it is not possible ! 

She led him on so, too. That foolish love of admiration !” 

“ That’s the right term, Hertie. She never cared for you any more 
than she did for me.” 

“ No,” said Hilton, bitterly, “ I believe you are right ; but I was 
such a vain, conceited idiot, I thought myself far above you all. 
Chumbley, do you believe what you said ?” 

Chumbley looked across the little space between them towards his 
friend ; but it was quite dark now, and the voices seemed to come out 
of a black void. 

“ No, old fellow, no,” he replied. “ It was a passing fancy. Good 
night.” 

“ Good night.” 

Then there was silence in the room, though neither of the men 
slept : Hilton lying in a state of feverish excitement, and Chumbley 
thinking over his words. 

“What made me say that, I wonder? ” he muttered. “ Suppose it 
should be true, and that all this while the ruffian has been playing 
dark. By Jove ! it is very likely ; much more likely than for a couple 
of fellows to be carried off. Poor girl ! No, it is impossible. I will 
not believe it. Let’s think of something else. Now, then, how are we 
to get away from here ?” 

“ Sleep, Chumbley ? ” said Hilton. 

“ If I answer and say wo,” thought Chumbley, “ he will lie talking 
for hours. I’ll hold my tongue.” 

“Fast asleep,” muttered Hilton to himself; “that fellow has no 
more soul than an ox,” and turning his head on the cushion that formed 
his pillow, he lay there in the feverish hot night, thinking of Helen 
Perowne, while the distant roar of some prowding tiger kept reaching 
his ear ; and it was not until the thought of Gray Stuart^s soft eyes, 
looking truthfully at his, came like something soft and gentle to cool 
his heated imagination, that he finally dropped asleep, forgetting his 
troubles for the time. 


CHAPTER LXL 

A SEARCH POE GOLD. 

Ip anyone else on the station had even talked of making an expedition 
up the river beneath the beams of that ardent sun Dr. Bolter would 
have exclaimed ; 

“Ah, of course. Here am I, toiling from morn to night with hand 
and brain, to keep you people in decent health, and yet you propose 
such a piece of insanity as that I Why, sir, you must be mad !” 

But then the doctor was mad upon his own particular subject, and 
neither heat nor storm would have kept him back. The sun now had 


A SEAKCH FOR GOLD. 


251 


tremendous power, and even his Malay boatmen looked hot ; but the 
doctor’s face only shone, and he sat back in the stern, gun in hand, 
carefully scanning the shore, ready to bring down the first attractive 
specimen he saw to add to his collection. 

The boat was well supplied with necessaries, including a waterproof 
sheet, and a handy tent if he should camp ashore ; but the boat was to 
be for the most part his camping-place; and, according to his precon- 
ceived plan, the doctor meant to force his way right up a branch or 
tributary of the main river — a stream that had never yet been, as far 
as he knew, explored ; and here he was hopeful of making his way close 
up to the mountains, continuing the journey on foot when the river 
became too narrow and swift for navigation. 

In this intent the boat was steadily propelled up stream, and at the 
end of the second day the Inche Maida’s campong and home had been 
passed, and unseen they had placed some miles between them and the 
Princess’s people. 

The Inche Maida was very friendly, but the knowledge that she 
would perhaps be down before many hours were over at the station, 
made the doctor fix his time for passing in the dusk of the evening, for 
he did not wish his movements to reach his wife’s ears sooner than he 
could help, nor yet to be canvassed by his friends. 

Hence, then, he slept that night with his boat secured to the trunk 
of a large cocoa-palm, well covered in from the night dew, and with a 
bit of quinine on the tip of his tongue when he lay down to keep off 
the fever. 

Neither he nor his men troubled themselves about the weird noises of 
the jungle, nor the rushings and splashings that disturbed the river. 
There were dangerous reptiles and other creatures around, but they 
did not disturb them ; and when the loud roar of a tiger was 
heard not many yards away, amidst the dense bushes of the shore, the 
doctor merely turned over and uttered a low grunt, muttering in his 
sleep about Mrs. Bolter breathing so hard. 

The next morning, before the white mist had risen from the river, 
the Malays were busy with their paddles, and ihey had gone on about 
five or six miles when one of the men ceased rowing, and held up his 
hand to command silence. 

“ A big boat coming down the river pulled by many oars, master, 
said the man, “ a fighting prahu, I think. Shall we hide ? ” 

“ Hide ? no,” exclaimed the doctor. “ Why ? ” 

“ It may be an enemy who will make us prisoners, perhaps kill us,” 
said the Malay, softly, “ We are thy servants, and w'e will go on if 
you say go.” 

“Perhaps I had better not,” said the doctor, thoughtfully. “It 
would spoil the expedition. Hah ! yes, I can hear the oars now. But 
where could we hide. 

“ If the master bids us, we will place the boat so that no one passing ^ 
shall see, and -we can see all,” replied the Malay. 

Doctor Bolter did not like hiding, but thinking that in this case 
discretion might be the better part of valour, he replaced his shot 
cartridge with ball, as he gave the signal to the man, who turned the 


252 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


sampan in shore; and cleverly guiding it in amongst the overhanging 
vegetation, this dropped behind them and they were in a verdant tunnel, 
the branches and leaves just touching their heads, and though them- 
selves completely concealed, able to see everything that passed or 
repassed upon the river. 

They had occupied their place of hiding so long that, had he not still 
heard the regular beat-beat of the large boat’s oars, the doctor would 
have concluded that it had passed. Still it seemed wonderful how the 
water bore the sound, for it was what seemed to be a considerable time 
before they saw the prow of a long prahu come round a bend of the 
river with its long banks of oars making the calm surface of the rapid 
river foam, as the long vessel glided on, coming in very close to them, 
so as to cut off a good deal of the next bend. 

They were so close that Doctor Bolter could note the expression 
upon the countenances of the men, and it seemed almost impossible 
that the little boat and its crew could remain unseen ; but the prahu 
passed on and round the next bend, the doctor waiting till the beat 
of the paddles was growing faint before ho gave the word for them 
to proceed. 

“Are those friends or enemies?” he said to one of the boatmen. 

The Malay smiled. 

“ Who knows ? ” he said. “ To-day they may be friends, to-morrow 
enemies. The prahu is Kajah Murad’s, and the crew his men.” 

The doctor did not pay much heed to the rather oracular words of the 
Malay, though he recalled it all afterwards, his attention now being 
taken up by some choice specimens of the sunbird family, hovering 
about the blossoms on the banks. 

Ten miles or s.o farther up, and the boatmen pointed to the overgrown 
mouth of the little river of which they were in search. 

Anyone unacquainted with the place would have passed it unseen, 
but it had been noted down by the doctor during one of his expeditions, 
as a place to be explored at some future time. 

The men turned the head of the sampan towards the tangled mass of 
bushes and overhanging trees, and then, as they drew near, one of them 
rose in the prow, and drew the long heavy parang he wore, a sword- 
like knife much used by the poorer Malays for cutting back the thorns 
and canes that a few days’ rapid growth led across their path ; but the 
next moment ho had lowered the weapon, and rested the point upon the 
edge of the boat. 

“ Someone has been here, master,” he said ; “ a big boat has broken 
its way through.” 

“ All the better for us,” said the doctor, and instead of having to cut 
and hack right and left, the sampan passed easily along the tangled 
channel, the masses of huge water-lilies giving way before the boat, 
while, as they got farther on past the grown-up mouth, the river seemed 
to widen, and the route of the vessel that had passed before cou-ld be 
plainly seen in a narrow channel of leaf-sprinkled water. 

“ That prahu must have been along here, master,” said the elder of 
the two Malays, thoughtfully. “ No small sampan could have broken a 
way like this.’* 


A SEARCH FOR GOLD. 


253 


“So much the bettor,” said the doctor again; but he grew more 
thoughtful, for the fact of a boat having been along this little river so 
lately seemed to rob it of a good deal of its mystery. He had hoped to 
find it completely unexplored, and here only that day someone had passed 
along. 

It was, however, in its upper portion that the doctor hoped to find 
something to interest him ; and after all it was not probable that the 
occupants of the prahu •w'ould be searching for gold. 

Under these circumstances he set himself to examine the banks on 
either side, and his men steadily paddled on hour after hour, till a halt 
was made at an open part where they landed, and made a fire to cook 
the birds that h^ been shot on the way up. Then a fresh start was 
made, and all through the long hot afternoon the doctor sat back scru- 
tinizing most diligently the sides of the little river. 

But it was always the same — one dense bank of verdure on either 
side, with the trees hanging over the river, and encroaching so that at 
last the stream was only a few yards wide ; but by pulling the branches 
aside the boat could have been thrust in, to glide along under a natural 
arcade — the home of thousands of crocodiles, from monsters fifteen and 
twenty feet long to their spawn not many more inches. 

It w'as a perfect paradise for a naturalist, and the doctor grew so 
much interested that he forgot the prime object of his visit, seeing 
nothing but birds and insects, to the exclusion of old gold workings, 
though had there been anything of the kind it would have been com- 
pletely hidden amongst the tangled, luxuriant growth. 

Ic was growing fast towards sunset when the doctor was suddenly 
brought back to the matter-of-fact every-day life from a kind of dream 
about the wondrous beauties of some peculiar beetles he had captured 
and held beneath his magnifying glass, by a sudden exclamation from 
the elder Malay. 

“What is it? ” exclaimed the doctor, sharply. 

“ The prahu came no farther than this. See, master, we shall have to 
cut the branches now' to get along.” 

He pointed wdth his paddle, and it w’as plain enough to see that the 
water-weeds and lilies were unbroken higher up, and that some large 
vessel must have been turned here, for the aqueous growth was crushed 
to a much greater extent. 

“There is a path there,” siiid the Malay, and he showed his employer 
the bank beaten down by footsteps, and that the bushes and trees had 
been cut away. 

“Yes,” replied the doctor, “someone has landed there, but it does 
not matter. We have come to the fresh ground. Let’s get a few miles 
farther, and then we’ll rest.” 

The doctor was so anxious to get on that no further notice of the 
marks of other travellers was taken, and with his spirits growing more 
elate as he went on, he watched the dense jungle on either side, and 
peered down into the black w’ater as night came rapidly on, so swiftly 
inder d that they had not progressed more than a couple of miles before 
the darkness made a halt absolutely necessary. 

I’ba waterproof sheet made a good covering, and the night passed 


254 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. ^ 


undisturbed, the rising sun being the signal for a fresh start; but tho 
difficulties of the journey began rapidly to increase. 

The stream that had been deep as ■well as swift seemed to have sud- 
denly grown shallow, indicating by its noisy brawling, and sparkling 
over masses of rock, that the^country was rising fast. 

In fact, the course of the river was now between high escarpments of 
rock, the jungle and its dense masses of trees seeming to be left behind, 
the grasses that grew in patches amongst the chinks of the rocks being 
different in kind from that which tangled the jungle where it touched 
the water. 

But in spite of the difficulties of the journey, the doctor was in 
ecstasies, and, regardless of getting his feet wet, he was constantly out 
of the boat to examine the shallow sands for signs of gold. 


CHAPTER LXII. 

A TIME OP TRIAL. 

Murad was startled for the moment, Helen’s act was so unexpected. 
Then a calm look of satisfaction crossed his face, and he smiled as he 
stood there, gazing down at the swarthy beauty, and folding his arms, 
he waited for her to speak. 

“ Do you wish to abase me more than this ? ” she said at last, in a 
choking voice. 

“No,” he replied calmly, “that will do. I meant to bring tho 
proud English beauty to my feet. See, I have done so, and very much 
sooner than I expected.” 

Helen felt that she had made a false move, and the blood ran back 
to her heart, as she crouched there, trembling. 

“ You have brought me to your feet,” she said softly. “ Be satisfied, 
and spare me further degradation.” 

“ What do you wish me to do ? ” he said in a low, deep voice. 

“ Send me back home ! ” she cried excitedly. 

“ And what then — what of your father and the Resident ? What of 
my position at the settlement ? ” 

“ No one shall know. I will keep it all a secret.” 

“ And you would risk all the remarks that your appearance would 
excite by going back ? ” 

“ Yes ! ” she cried passionately, as she thought of Mr. Harley, and 
felt that he would take her to his heart even then. 

“ And you honestly believe that no trouble would follow ? ” said 
Murad quietly. 

“ I am certain of it ! ” she cried. “ I toll you I would keep it secret.” 

“ And I know better,” he said contemptuously. “ My good girl, do 
you think I am a child ? If I let them at the settlement know of the 
step I have taken, your people would send for help, and my country 
would be invaded, my eampongs burned, and after they had driven me 
out, they would take possession of my land,” 


A TBIE Oi? TRIAL. 


255 


“ But I -vrould not betray you.” 

“Pish! They would discover it for themselves. They think you 
dead now. Let them think that you had been carried off, and my 
days would be but few in my land.” 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” she cried ; “ the English are not cruel.” 

“Oh, no,” ho echoed, with a derisive smile, “not cruel, only just. 
Look here, Helen, I have been gambling: I staked all I had, even to 
my life, to win you, and I have won. Now you ask me to resign my 
gains. It is ridiculous. How would it be— how docs the matter 
stand ? On the one hand here is ruin to my place and people and death 
to myself; on the other hand, happiness and joy — the happiness of a 
gratified love, as I rejoice in my ti’iumph over the woman who first made 
my pulses throb, and then trilled witli my love.” 

Helen started to her feet and shrank away, feeling instinctively 
that she had as much prospect of finding pity from the tigers of the 
jungle as from Murad. 

As she retreated from him ho smiled with all the consciousness of his 
power, and rested upon one elbow as he reclined upon the mats, watch- 
ing her movements, a very idealization of some glistening serpent, 
gazing languidly at the trembling victim that has been placed within 
its cage, ready to be stricken down at his good pleasure. 

“There,” he s;iid, at last, “it is foolish to weary yourself and try 
to escape. I tell you it is impossible. You have now the skin and the 
dress of a Malay lady ; why do you not adopt our wa3's as well ? 
We are fatalists, as your people call us. When we see that a thing is 
to be, we take it as it comes, and do not murmur and strive against fate. 
You see now that it is your fate to be my favourite wife. Why 
should you strive against it like some dove that beats its bi*east against 
the close bars of its cage. Come,” he continued, making a place for 
her by his side, “ let us be friends at once, Helen. You do not wish to 
make me angry with you, I am dangerous then.” 

“Angry? With me ? ” she cried, her indignation asserting itself 
now, and her e^’es flashed as they met his. “I do not fear your 
anger.” 

“And 3'et it is to bo feared,” ho said quietly. “Ask one of the 
weraen here about my rage, and you will find that it may mean death. 
They fear it, and shrink from me when I frown.” 

Por answer, Helen strove once more to tear open the door, and then 
she uttered a wild and piercing shriek, for, as silently as one of the 
tigers of his own jungle, Murad had gathered himself up and sprung 
forward, catching her by the arms, and the next moment he held her 
strained to his breast, 

Helen’s wild shriek was answered on the instant by one without ; and 
Murad’s face became less swarthy in his rage, as he loosed his prisoner 
and threw open the door, admitting the younger of the two Malay girls 
who had been Helen’s gaolers, and who ran to the Rajah and flung her- 
self upon his breast. 

In an access of rage the Malay chief struck her across the face, and 
sent her staggering back, as ho cursed her brutally for coming at such 
a time; and Helen saw how thin a veneer was the English upon tiw 

17 


256 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


man’s nature, wliich now asserted itself in all its native savagery as he 
bade the girl go. 

“ No,” she cried, turning upon him in a patient, suffering way, dis- 
playing the strength of her weakness as she once more clung to his 
arm. “ I do not mind your beating me,” she said patiently. “ I am 
used to that ; but you said you would love mo always ; and I will not 
have this strange girl come between us.” 

“ If you do not go ” he said hoarsely, and he bent down and whis- 

pered to her with a menacing look, and a touch at the hilt of his kris. 

“ I am not afraid,” she said in the same low tone, as she clung to his 
arm. “ You would not kill mo ; and you may beat me : I am used to 
that. I say I will not have anyone come between, us and stand 
quietly by.” 

Murad’s hand sought his kris, and his lips parted from his teeth, when 
he half drew the weapon from its sheath ; but he mastered his savage 
rage as he thought of Helen, and spoke quietly and in slow, measured 
tones, evidently meaning her to hear and comprehend every word. 

“Go,” he said, “and you can tell the others this — I have no wife 
now but this lady. If either of you speak evil to her or annoy her in 
any way you die. I shall not touch you, but you will bo taken to the 
river. Now leave me at once.” 

The girl shrank from him, and trembling in every limb, she tottered 
towards the door ; but her attachment and jealous feelings still refused 
to be mastered, and turning back once more, she burst into a wild 
passion of weeping, and flung herself upon his breast. 

“ Go ! ” he cried angrily, and he repulsed her roughly. “You hear 
my words.” 

He flung her away, and Helen saw her opportunity. Here was one 
who hated her, but might be made her friend ; and as the girl staggered 
back from the violent thrust she had received Helen caught her in her 
arms and clung to her. 

For a moment the girl shrank away ; but directly after she gazed 
wildly in her eyes, and then with an hysterical cry clasped her tightly. 

“Stay with me,” whispered Helen. “I hate him! Pray stay 
and save me from him ! ” 

The trembling girl seemed to grow strong as she found out more 
fully what her rival’s real feelings were ; and as Murad angrily 
advanced she retreated with Helen to one corner of the room, uttering 
so wild and piercing a shriek, that the Rajah stamped his foot with 
rage, and going to the door, threw it open and uttered a lierco 
command. 

The result was, that four of the women with whose faces Helen was 
already familiar came running in, and Murad pointed peremptorily to 
the pair. 

“ Take her away 1 ” he cried sharply, and the women seized Helen’s 
defender; but with a quick movement she snatched a little kris from 
within her sarong, and they fell back in alarm ; while with flashing eyes 
she placed one arm round llelen, and gazed menacingly from one to the 
other, as if ready to strike at the first who should advance. 

The women uttered loud eiaes, and fled to Murad, who fiercely 


MORE TREACHERY. 


257 


ordered them once more to separate the pair. No one, ho\rever, acU 
vanced, and he threw open the door and hade them go. 

The women hurried out, glad to escape, and then the Rajah pointed 
to the open door, 

“ Go ! ” he f-aid fiercely, and he glared wrathfully at the girl, who 
pressed her arm more tightly round Helen, and looked her defiance. 
“ Will you go ? ” he said hoarsely ; “ or am I to have you torn away ? ” 

“No one dare tear me away!” retorted the girl. “I shall stay 
with her, and no one shall hurt her Avhile I’m alive.” 

They spoke so quickly now that Helen could only gather a few words 
hero and there ; but she could make out how fiercely the girl was 
threatening to resist any attempt to separate them, even going so far 
as to present the point of her weapon at Murad, who shrank angrily 
aw'ay, and stood ait last biting his lips. 

“ Will 3’ou go ? ” he cried at last, in a furious tone ; and as ho spoke 
he gazed from the girl to Helen and back again. 

“ No ! ” she cried fiercely. “ I will stay with her. She shall not be 
your wife I ” 


CHAPTER LXIII. 

IIOUE TUEACIIEUy. 

Mukad took a step towards the girl, and whispered something wdiich 
Helen could not catch. 

Then, turning sharply round, he dashed the curtain aside, swmng open 
the door, .and passing through, they heard the heavy Iwng as the curtain 
waved to and fro, when Helen’s defender sank trembling to her knees, 
her eyes closed, and the little w'eapou with which, but a mimite before, 
she wjis ready to menace the Rajah’s life, fell wdth a musical tinkle 
upon the floor. 

The noise startled her, and she opened her eyes to gaze piteously at the 
fallen curtain, and ended by bursting into a pa.s.sionate fit of AVieping. 

Helen let her hands fall upon the Malay girl’s shoulder, eager to 
apeak her thanks, but hesitating, as- she felt that it would bo better to 
let the outbreak have its course. 

In this spirit she waited quite patiently, listening eagerly though 
for the slightest sound without that should betoken the Rajah’s return ; 
but all remained silent till suddenly the girl rose and turned upon 
her angrily. 

“Why did you come?” she cried; “he loved me before he saw 
you. Go : you make me hate you, and I shall kill you for it if you 
BUiy.” 

For the moment Helen felt angry. At such a time the girl’s want of 
reason was irritating; but seeing that she was almost beside herself 
with jejilous grief, she advanced, and laid a hand upon the weeping 
girl’s arm. 

“You know I hate him,” s'ae said, gently, “and that I would 
give the world to get away." 


258 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


** Yes, yes, yes, I kno-w,” sobbed the girl ; and her anger gave place 
to a most effusive display of affection. “ Yes, I knoAV, but it is so 
hard to bear. He used at one time to love me so avell, and now lie is 
quite changed for the sake of you. Why do you not go ? ” 

“ Will you show me the way ? ” cried Helen, eagerly. 

“ The way ? ” said the girl. 

“Y'es; how to escape — to get back to my own people.” 

“ Do you really want to go back ? ” said the girl, looking at her 
searchingly. 

“Yes, yes; oh yes,” was the reply. “ITl give you anything to 
help mo away. You shall bo made rich, and I will care for you and 
love you like a sister, only save me from this man.” 

The girl fixed her great dark eyes upon Helen’s, arid seemed to be 
trjung ro read her thoughts. 

“ It is very sti-ange ! ” she said at last. 

“ What is strange ? That I should ask you to save me ? ” 

“ No,” said the gii*l, dreamily ; “ that anyone should be able to hate 
Muivid. He has been cruel to me, but I could never hate him, even 
though others have talked to mo and tried to get my love. Hamet hiis 
loved me, he tells me, and that ho is unhappy because I am cold ; but 
I could never hate Murad, and the more cruel ho is to me, the more ho 
seems to have my love.” 

“ But it troubles you that he should make love to me ? ” 

“ Yes,” hissed the girl, fierce^ly. “ It makes me mad.” 

*• Then help me to escape ;* help me to get away I ” cried Helen, 
clinging to her passionately. 

“ And if I do he will kill me,” sighed the girl. 

“ Then do not stay here,” whispered Helen, glancing suspiciously at 
the great curtain, which seemed to wave to and fro, and moved us 
though some one were listening close behind. 

“ Do not stay? ” said the girl, wonderingly. 

“No. Let us escape together.” 

“ But to leave Murad ? ” 

“He does not love you now.” 

“ But Hamet does ; he would grieve. They would follow and kill 
me.” 

“No, no. Y’ou shall not be harmed,” said Helen, excitedly. “I 
will protect you. You shall live with me.” 

“ No,” said the girl, sadly, “ I could not go away and leave Murad, 
lie is cruel to me, but I cannot be cruel to him. He would want me if 
I was gone,” 

“ But jmu say he would kill you if you stayed ? ” 

“Yes,” sighed the girl. “Ho 'would kill mo for helping you to 
escape if he found me out.” 

“ Then come "wath me and let my people protect you,” whispered 
Helen, excitedly. “ Why should you stay here when I can give you a 
happier and better homo ? ” 

“ Happier ! better ! ” said the girl. “ No ; there is no life for mo 
that could be happier w'heu he is kind. There can be no better place 
than this.” 


MORE TREACHERY. 


259 


Helen passed her arm round her, for there -vras something beautiful 
in the girl’s faith and love for the tyrant who abused her adcction at 
every turn ; and the girl, feeling the unusual caress, turned to her 
lovingly. 

“Tell mo once again,” she said, “that you really mean it— that 
you would bo glad to go,” and she looked searehingly in Helen’s 
eyes. 

“ I would sooner die than stay,” cried Helen, who had to repeat hei 
words twice before she could make herself understood. 

“Then let me think,” said the girl, quietly: “let me think how it 
can be done, for w'e should like to live and be happy once again.” 

“ As we shall be, if you help me to escape and come with me and 
share my home. Let us steal down to a boat as soon as it is dark, and 
then we can soon reach the great river by floating with the stream.” 

The girl smiled sadly. 

“ You forget,” she said, “Murad’s people will watch us, for we are 
prisoners now.” 

There w\as no doubt about this being the case, for door and window 
were securel}’- fastened, as the girl showed with a smile, becoming very 
thoughtful directly after, and making impatient gestures every time 
Helen tried to draw her into conversation. 

And so the clay wore on, with the prisoner’s heart sinking as she 
saw the approach of night. 

It was just at the time when her spirits were at their lowest ebb 
that the girl turned to her suddenly and caught her by the arm. 

“I have been thinking” she said, “and you shall go free.” 

She spoke in her own tongue, and Helen had great difficulty in com- 
prehending her, but the peril sharpened her understanding; and by 
making the girl repeat her words, she arrived at a pretty correct 
interpi’etation. 

“ And you will go with me ? ” whispei*ed Helen, eagerly. 

“ A little while ago I felt that I could never leave Murad ; but ho is 
cruel, and he loves me no longer now. I will go.” 

Helen’s hejirt throbbed with joy, as she caught the girl to her 
breast and kissed her passionately, loosing her though directly, for 
the door was suddenly opened, and they saw a group of four women 
standing there, evidently bearing food. 

“ Come and fetch it,” said one of them to Helen’s companion, for 
they did not attempt to enter the room. 

The girl left Helen and went to the door, to return, bringing the 
materials for a respectable meal, returning again for water and palm 
wine, with vessels for drinking, and once more returning for the fruit 
that the women produced. 

Helen was watching their movements intently and suspiciously, she 
hardly knew why, when suddenly, as the girl was taking a bunch of 
plantains from one of the women, another threw her arms round her 
neck and clasped her tightly, with the result that the others seized her 
as well ; there was a slight struggle, the door was slammed to, and as 
Helen ran to it with throbbing heart, she heard the noise of renewed 
struggling, the excited angry cries of her poor companion, and these 


260 


ONE MAID’S mSCHIEF. 


seemed to be dying away for a time, and then to suddenly end as if 
they had been stifled. 

Helen Perowne wms brave enough in her "way; but the sounds of this 
stru'JTgle, the cries, and their sudden ending, coupled with tlie threats 
lately uttered by Murad, made her shudder as she turned, wet with the 
cold Vers[)i rat ion that gathered upon her face. 

What did it mean — that sudden •silence ? Had they suffocated the 
poor girl, or had they slain her by some more sudden and tieadly 
stroke ? 

Helen tried hard to maintain her composure ; but her dread increased, 
and she tottered back to the mats that served her for a couch, to sink 
down, trembling in every limb. 

It was a terrible ordeal, and the more she realized the horrors of her 
position the more deeply she regi’etted her conduct to Murad. 

For evidently beneath his tldn veneer of European manners the 
Kajah was a remoi’seless Eastern tyrant, ready to do anything — to 
sacrifice anything to obtain his wishes. 

Unknowingly, or rather carelessly, and with her customary indif- 
ference, she had made this man her determined pursuer; and as 
she thought this, she turned faint, feeling that her position was hope- 
less in the extreme; and for the moment she felt as if she would 
go mad. 

A violent flood of tears relieved her overburdened brain, and at last 
she sat up, thinking of her chances of escape, and wondering whether 
she had let her imagination run riot, and the girl was after all only 
in a fresh place of confinement. 

She decided to take this hopeful view of the case; and feeling better, 
her eyen lit upon the food that had been brought in, and of which she 
p irtook, not so much from choice as from a belief in its being necessary 
for her strength, which she feared might fail her at any time, perhaps 
in the direst moment of her need. 

Seating herself, then, beside the food, she was trying to eat. when 
the door was again opened, and one of the women entered quietly, 
bearing a lighted English lamp. 

Helen eagerly questioned her respecting her late companion ; but the 
woman either did not or professed not to understand, merely placing 
the tall lamp upon a mat on the floor, and hurrying away, seeming as 
it were to disaj)pear in the gloom on the other side of the lamp, and 
dii ectly after she lieard the door close. 

She sat listening, but all was very still. The sun had sunk, .and the 
darkness was coming on so rapidly that she felt thankful for thg lamp ; 
and then she turned longingly towards the wmter and wine that liad 
been brought to her. but waich she shrank from touching lest they 
should happen to contain some drug. 

Her thirst seemed to increase at the very sight of the drinking- 
vessels; and the more she tried to wrench away her eyes, the more they 
sought the largo native bottles and cups. 

“ I cannot bear it! ” she panted at last, and, bending down, she took 
the vessel containing the water, poured some out, and after tsisting 
it suspiciously, with her throat growing parched with intense 


TRYING FOR A CHANGE. 


261 


longing, she felt satisfied that the water was pure, and drank a long and 
hearty draught. 

She set the cup down with a sigh of pleasure; and then her blood 
ran cold, for her sigh seemed to be echoed from out of the gloom near 
the door. 

Murad was standing there, leaning against the door post, and it was 
evident to her now that he had entered when the woman brought in 
the lamp, and that he had been watching her ever since. 


CILIPTER LXIV. 

TllYINQ FOR A CnAXGE. 

The days glided rapidly by, and still Hilton and Chumbley remained 
prisoners. They were well attended to ; their diet, though Eastern in 
character, was admirably prepared : they had wine and cigars, capital 
coffee, and an abundance of fruit, but no liberty. 

The Inche Maida was either away, or else she had taken such deadly 
offence that she was determined to see her prisoners no more for the 
present, until they were in a better frame of mind as regarded her 
wishes. 

The slaves who attended upon them were ready to obey their slightest 
wishes, running eagerly to fetch coffee or fruit, or a kind of sherbet 
which was very pleasant to drink during the heat of the day. 

But there was, with all the attention, a strict watch kept, Chumbley 
noticing that there was always an ostentatious display of force, as if to 
show the prisoners that it was hopeless to attempt to escape. 

Armed men sat about outside the door, and from the window the 
prisoners could see other armed men sitting about chewing betel, or 
practising throwing the limbing — the javelin with a blade of razor 
keenness — which they hurled with such unerring aim that the least 
skilful would have been certain to strike a man at thirty yards. 

But all the same, the hearts of the prisoners were set upon scheming 
their escape; and they sat and smoked, and made their calculations as 
to how it wixs to be compassed. 

“ I’m sorry I was so rough with the poor woman,” said Hilton one 
evening, as they sat by the open window sipping their coffee, and gazing 
at the rich orange glow in the sky above the dark green foliage of the 
trees. 

Well, you were pretty rough upon her for displaying a remarkable 
fern in me weakness in your favour,” replied Ch^imbley. 

“ Well, rough or no. I’m tired of this,” said Hilton. “It is evident 
that Haidey is making no effort to find us out.” 

“Perhaps ho is, but can’t find the place. I’ve been trying hard 
to make out "where we are. ” 


2G2 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ So have I, but I’m puzzled. One thing is evident; we are a long 
way frsm the river.’* 

“ So we cannot be at the Inche Maida’s seat.” 

“ No ; I suppose this is a sorr. of private lodge or hunting-box some- 
where away in the jungle.” 

“ Yes ; a place of retreat in case of danger.” 

Then there v’as a pause, during which the prisoners sat gazing 
through the bars of the window at the glories of the sky, Chumbley 
disgusting his friend by continuously spitting. 

“ The Princess’s home is on the right bank of the river,” said Hilton, 
at last. 

“ Granted, oh ! Solomon the wise ! ” 

Ergo," continued Hilton, “we are upon the right bank of the 
river.” 

“ Unless her ladyship’s dominions extend to the other side.” 

“ Take it for granted that thoy do not,” said Hilton. 

“ What then ? ” 

“ AVhy, we can pretty well tell where the river is.” 

“ Where is it, then ? ” 

“ Due north from where wo sit.” 

“ Humph ! ” said Chumbley. “ Sun sets in the west. I’m looking 
at the sun, and the river, then, is straight away from my right 
shoulder ? ” 

“ Of course ! ” 

“Then if we got out of this window, and walked straight thi’ough 
the jungle — which we could not do — we should come right upon the 
river ? ” 

“ Sooner or later,” said Hilton. “ Then all would be plain sailing.” 

“ Don’t see it. No boat,” said Chumbley, spitting again. 

“ Why, my dear boy, we should journey along with the stream till 
we came to some campoiig, and then cut adrift a boat and escape in 
that.” 

“ But suppose the owner objected ? ” 

“ Knock hi m down with one of his own cocoanuts or your fist. Y’ou’re 
big enough, Chumbley.” 

“ All right, I’ll try,” was the reply ; “ but that isn’t the difficulty.” 

“ No, of course not. Y'ou mean how are we to get away from hero ? ” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ Well, i have a plan at last.” 

“A good one?” said Chumbley, spitting through the window 
again. 

“ No, for all my good plans that I have invented turn out to have a 
bad flaw in them. This is the poorest of the lot, but it seems the most 
likely.” 

“ Well, let’s have it,” said Chumbley, coolly ; “ not that I feel in any 
hurry to get back to duty, for I am very comfortable here.” 

“Hang it all. Chum, I believe you would settle down as soon as 
not.” 

“I don’t know. Perhaps I would. But how about this plan ? ” 

“ It is simply to wait till about one or two in the morning, when 


TRYING FOR A CHANGE. 


263 


everyone 'will most likely bo asleep, and then to climb up the side of 
the room here, and force our way through the thatch.” 

“ Go on,” said Chumbley, spitting again, and making his friend wince. 

“ Then we could climb along the ridge of the roof till we get to the 
farther end, where thei*e is a big tree resting its boughs over the place. 
Once there, I think we could get down.” 

“ And if we could not ? ” 

“ We’d get down some other way.” 

“ Why didn’t we try that before?” said Chumbley; “it is quite 
easy.” 

“ Because it was so easy that we did not think it worth trying.” 

“Humph ! ” ejaculated Chumbley. “ I’ve been thinking out a plan 
too, which perhaps might do as -well. I was going to tell you about it 
to-night, only oddly enough, you proposed this.” 

“ What is your plan ? ” sjiicl Hilton yawning. 

“Well, you see, I thought of getting out by the roof, breaking 
through the walls, and cutting the bars of the window; but they 
neither of them seemed to fit, so I tried another plan.” 

“ And what was that ? ” 

“ It seemerd so much better to go through the bottom, so I have been 
at work at the bamboos.” 

“ Where — where? ” cried Hilton, excitedly. 

“Take it quietly, old fellow, or you may excite attention,” said 
Chumbley, spitting through the window. “Well, the fact is, I’ve 
been at work night after night, when you were asleep, upon the bam- 
boos under my bed.” 

“ And you have cut through them ? ” 

“ Yes; through two of them, so that one has only to pull my bed 
aside, lift the two pieces of wood ” 

“ Chumbley ! ” ejaculated Hilton, joyously. 

“ Hullo ! ” 

“ Why, I’ve been giving you the credit of being ready to settle down 
here in the most nonchalant way.” 

“ Yes, I saw you did. That’s why I chiselled away so as to get 
through those bamboos.” 

“ While I was asleep ? ” 

“ While you were asleep,” said Chumbley, spitting vigorously. 

“Ah, my dear fellow, I shall ” 

“ Hold your row. Light a cigar, or they’ll be suspicious.” 

Hilton obeyed without a word, and Chumbley went on : 

“So when you are ready we’ll pocket a table-knife apiece, fill our 
pockets with portable meat of some kind, and then be off.” 

“ Why not to-night? ” 

“ I don’t see why not,” replied Chumbley, coolly; “I’m ready. It 
will do you good a bit of a scamper through the jungle, even if we get 
caught.” 

“ No scoundrel shall catch me alive.” 

“ I say, old man, don’t talk as if the Malays were fly-papers and you 
were a pretty insect.” 

“ Don’t be absurd,” said Hilton, excitedly. “ Shall we try to-night ? ” 


264 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Well, no ; let’s leave it till to-morro'w, when we can devote the day 
to storing np cigai’s and fool ; and then if they don’t find out the hole 
I have made, we can slip through and make for the river.” 

“But suppose they find out the hole you have made ? ” 

“ Well, then, we must try another plan : your way through the thatch.*’ 

“ Yes, of course. But, by the way, old fellow, I wish you would 
drop that habit you have just taken up of spitting through the win- 
dow.” 

“ Certainly I will,” said Chumbley, coolly; “ but don’t you see, old 
fellow. I've had to get rid of a lot of bamboo chips, and that was the 
only way I could destroy them. They’re awfully harsh chewing, by 
the way.” 

Hilton looked at him with a kind of admiration. 

“ And to think that I’ve been abusing you for your indolence ! ” ho 
cried. 

“ Didn’t hurt me a bit,” said Chumbley. “ Go it. I don’t mind.” 

That night and the next day seemed as if they would never pass. 
Every time a native servant entered Hilton felt sure that he had some 
suspicion about the loosened bamboos, and it seemed as if his eyes were 
dii'ected towards the pile of mats upon which Chumbley slept. 

But at last after a false alarm of the Princess coming, the night fell, 
and with beating heart Hilton set about filling his pockets and a hand- 
kerchief with provisions for the journey, Chumbley seeming all the 
while to be plunged into a state of lethargy. 

“ Come, Chum,” whispered Hilton, at last, “ be stirring, man.” 

“ Heaps of time yet, my boy,” replied the other. “ Lie down and 
have a nap.” 

“Will nothing stir you?” whispered Hilton, wrathfully. “Good 
Heavens, man, rouse yourself ! ” 

“Shan’t. I’m resting. There’s heaps to do when we start, and I 
want to be fresh. Lie down.” 

“ Hang it, don’t speak as if I were a dog,” cried Hilton, sharply. 

“Have the goodness to lie down and rest yourself, my dear boy,” 
said Chumbley in a polite drawl. “It is of no use for us to attempt 
to stir till the fellows are all asleep, so save yourself up.” 

Hilton obeyed, lying down upon the matting, and in spite of his 
excitement, ho felt a strangely-delicious drowsy sensation stealing over 
him, to which he yielded, and the next moment — so it seemed to him 
— Chumbley laid a great hand over his lips, and whispered: 

“Time’s up ! ” 

He rose to his knees, to find that it was intensely dark, and saving 
an occasional howl from the forest, all was perfectly still. 

‘ ‘ I’ve got the bamboos up,” whispered Chumbley, “ and you are going 
first, because I can then hold your hands and lower you softly down. 
Don’t speak, but do as I bid you.” 

Hilton felt ready to resist his companion’s autocratic ways, but he 
obeyed him in silence, Chumbley lowering him througli the hole to the 
open space below the house, the building being raised some eight feet 
above the ground upon huge bamboo piles, as a protection from floods 
and the prowling tiger. 


IN TIME OF PEIIIL. 


265 


The next minute there vras a faint rustle, a heavy breathing, a slight 
crack or two, and Hilton received a heavy kick. 

Then Chumhley dropped to his feet. 

“ I got stuck,” he whispered, as he took his friend’s hand ; ** thought 
I should not have got through. Now then, the river lies straight betora 
us, under that great star. ’Ware guards and tigers, and we shall bo 
safe.” 

It was intensely dark beneath the house, and but little better as they 
emerged from the piles upon which it was built, to stand with the dense 
jungle before them, impenetrable save where there was a path; and 
they were about to step boldly forth, when something bright seemed to 
twinkle for a moment between them and the stars, and by straining 
their eyes they made out that straight before them were the misty- 
looking forms of a couple of their Malay guards. 


CHAPTER LXV. 

IN TIME OP PEKIL* 

TVini eyes wild and hair dishevelled Helen Perowne sat crouched 
together as far from the Rajah as her means would allow. 

“ Why, Helen,” he SKvid, mockingly, and with a gleam of triumph in 
his eyes, as he half reclined against the bamboo wall, “ how beautiful 
you look ! ” 

He made a movement as if to clasp her in his arms but she sprang 
up with a cry of horror. 

“What folly!” he said, laughing as ho slowly changed his feet. 
“ And 3 mu will not drink — you arc afraid that I shall try to poison you. 
Don’t be afraid. Why should I now. I love you too well. When 
first you began to woo me ” 

She burst into a piteous fit of sobbing and then turned upon him her 
eyes full of misery and despair. 

“ That makes you more handsome ! ” he cried, excitedly. “ Be angry 
with me; I love it 1 I will say that again. When you first began to 
woo me ” 

It had not the intended effect, for Helen remained silent, watching 
him with dilated eyes, as if he u'ere some tiger about to make a spring. 

“ I say when you first began to woo me,” he continued, “I resisted 
for a time, for you are only a white woman, and not of our blood or 
our religion ; but I felt at last that you had made me your slave, and 
once my love had turned to you, fate told me that you would be mine, 
and I gave way to my passion. Then you led me on till I declared my 
love, when you professed to cast me off, and I accepted the words ; but 
they were words only. Fate said that I w'as to take to myself a wife 
from the invaders of my country, and do you think I was going to let 
the opposition of your friends, as you did, stand in the way ? ” 

He waited for her to reply, but she remained watchful and silent. 

“I kuew all along,” he went on, evidently to provoke her to speak, 


2G6 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“that you onfy professed to reject me, and that you Trere wnitin", as 
I was, the time when you would be mine; and though I grew daily 
more impatient, I was ready to wait for my reward, and now the time 
has come. Look at me well, my wife, for such 3’ou are ; even the priests 
have studied, and found that a prince of my race was to marry a woman 
fair as the morning light.” 

He took a step forward, and as she shrank back with a cry of horror, 
he stopped and laughed. 

“ Why do you shrink away, little wife ? ” he said. “ The time has 
passed now for that, and you should cling to me, and pay me for my 
patient waiting and my brave deed. But you were afraid of the water 
and wine, as if I should poison or drug you. Why should I ? You 
are here — my wife — in my home amongst my slaves. It is foolishness 
to think that I should give you poison to diink — to you who love me 
so Avell. See here ! ” 

He walked quickly forward to where the wine was placed, and Helen 
watched him keenly as he poured out a cupful, smiled at her, and drank 
it slowly to the last drop. 

“ Now,” ho said smiling, “ will you drink without fear ? I will pour 
you out a cup. No ; I will use this from which I drank. It is only 
your husband’s, and you need not mind.” 

He poured out a fresh cup of the palm wine ; but as if from clumsiness 
shook the native bottle that contained the liquid. Helen did not per- 
ceive it; but the wine as he partook of it himself was clear; now it was 
thick and discoloured, a fact that would have been seen at once in a glass. 

She still kept aloof from him, with her mind actively at work, 
seeking some means of escaping from her enemy’s hands, for she eouhl 
not conceal from herself that appeals and violence would be equally in 
vain. 

She came to the full endorsement, then, of previous thoughts — that 
her sole hope of escape depended upon artifice ; her womanly cunning 
must be brought to bear. She felt that she had mastered iMurad 
before; why should she net now — by seeming to accept her fate ? He 
would, she argued, doubtless submit to her wishes if she showed a 
semblance of accepting his suit, and in this spirit, as he pressed her 
once more to partake of the wine, she began to parley with him. 

“ I do not drink wine,” she said. 

“ But you must be faint,” he urged. “You have only drunk water; 
you have not oaten.” 

“’riiun I will eat,” she said. 

“ May 1 seat myself, and eat with you ? ” 

She paused for a mon.ent, for her nature fought against the subterfuge 
she was about to practise; but he was keenly watching her, and she 
motioned to him to take his seat upon the mats. 

“ When you are seated,” he said, with a smile of Irittmph playing 
about his lips. 

She hesitated for a moment or two, and then sat down, Murad 
following her example, and contenting himself, as she seemed ready to 
start HAvay, with placing the wine-eup at her side, and seating himself 
opi osite. 


' IN TIME OF PERIL. 


267 


“ That is better,” he said, smiling. “ Now make me happy by letting 
me see you eat.” 

Every mouthful seemed as if it would choke her, and her heartbeat 
wildly as she thought of her unprotected state ; but she battled bravely 
with her feelings, and spoke quietly, answering the Rajah’s questions, 
and striving all the while for strength and courage to carry out her 
designs. 

As for Murad, he was perfectly triumphant in his way. The victory 
was his ; and with all the pride of a weak man at his success in bringing 
the handsome English beauty to her knees, he laughed merrily, making 
Helen shiver as she saw the wild excitement iu his eyes, and listened 
to the compliments he paid to her beauty. 

“I like you the more for your brave resistance,” he said ; “ and most 
of all for your cleverness and wisdom. You see that it is of no use to 
fight, so, like awdse captain, you surrender.” 

He laughed again, and kept his flaming eyes fixed upon her. 

“You shall be my queen, Helen,” he said, talking in a quick, excited 
way. “ You shall help me to fight all my enemies, and drive them out, 
till all the country round is mine, for you are Malayan now, and your 
people will have to go. I shall not slay them. No; they will find 
they have no position here, and they will go as they came; but you 
will stay. Y’'ou will uot wish to leave me, my queen. Y’'ou will not 
W'ish to be white again. But you have not drunk your wine. Gome : 
you must drink, Helen; it is my cxip, and I wish to drink again.” 

She took up the cup and held it to him, Murad tiiking it with a bow 
and smile, holding her fingers within his pressed against the side of the 
vessel, and keeping them prisoned there. 

She did npt shrink, but sat motionless, her hand becoming deathly 
cold, and the dank perspiration gathering upon her brow. 

“No,” he said at last, with a smile; “it is not fair. Y’ou must 
drink to me. See ! ” ho continued, raising the cup to his lips, and 
holding it therefor some moments. “I drink to your happiness — a 
toast you English people call it.” 

She watched him narrowly, and saw that he did not drink, merely 
held the cup to his lips, and then slowly let it down to the level of his 
breast, carefully wiping his lips before holding out the cup to her. 

“ Stay,” he cried, “1 must fill it up again ; ” and taking the native 
bottle, his hand shook a good deal as he refilled the cup. “Your 
presence agitates me,” he said. “See how my hand trembles. It is 
all for love — the love you taught me to feel.” 

Helen trembled with horror ; and never had her heart reproached her 
in all her past more bitterly than at this moment. It was retribution, 
and she felt it cruelly. 

“ There,” he cried, touching the edge of the cup again with his lips, 
“ drink from that, Helen, my love, my wife, as an earnest of the kisses 
you press upon these lips, for I will not force them from yo\x ; they shall 
come full and freely as your gifts. Forced kisses are from slaves, and 
I can command them when I will ! I want your warm, true, freely- 
given English love, and in return I will worship you, and make you a 
queen as great as your own, far over the seas. There, take the cup and 


268 


ONE MMD’S MISCHIEF. 


drink. Yes, you must — you shall drink. No, no,” he crietl, laughing 
in a harsh, strange way, “ I do not command, I beg and pray.” 

He had risen now, and was bending down over her with the wine, 
and in her horror and fear of his presence she was ready to shriek 
aloud. His hand gnxsped her arm as he pressed the cup towards her. 
It was with no lustful caress, but with a spasmodic, furious grasp to 
save himself from falling as the cup dropped from his hand, making a 
great patch upon the soft brown matting that was spread with sweets 
and fruit. 

He recovered himself though directly, and stood upright, but kept on 
muttering angrily and gazing about him in a wild, excited way. His 
eyes looked fixed and dilated, while his hands were extended as if feel- 
ing about for something to grasp. 

Helen gazed at him in horror, and she shrank more and more away as 
Murad kept on muttering in the Malay tongue before sinking down 
heavily and then letting his head drop as if it were much too heavy 
to bear. 

She stared, believing it to be some ruse, but a heavy, stertorous breath- 
ing set in, and the Eajah sank lower and lower, evidently in a heavy 
stupor, while now all became confused and misty before Helen’s eyes ; 
and as, like a flash, the thought passed through her brain that after all 
the water that she had tasted had been drugged, a deathly sickness 
overcame her, and she sank back insensible upon the mats. 


CHAPTER LXVI. 

LIGHT IN DAUKNESS. 

When Helen Perowne came to her senses it was some minutes before she 
could realize what had taken place, and she lay there motionless, staring 
up at the bamboo and palm-leaf roof that looked dim, and weird, and 
strange, as she saw it softly illumined by the rays of the lamp; w'hile 
there above her was one soft round patch of light glowing amidst the 
darkness, and reminding her of the nights wdien she had been ill at 
Miss Twettenhams’, and a night-light had been set to burn in a shade. 

“ Where am I ? ” she asked herself ; for the past seemed gone. 

Then all at once she seemed to hear, coming, as it were, out of the 
mental mist wherein she wandered, a dull, low, long-drawn breathing, 
and she rose to her elbow, to see there, lying with his face turned to the 
lamp; and not two yards away, Murad, apparently watching her, for hU 
eyes avero -widely opened and staring in her direction. 

Her heart began to throb violently, and cautiously watchful, she roso 
slowly to her knees, supporting herself with her hands, as she felt how 
horror-stricken and weak she was ; and it was only by a great efiort that 
she found herself able to stand. 

_ She was glad, however, to sit down again, to allow the sensation of 
giddiness that oppressed her to pass away. And now she fully realized 
the fact that the staring eyes before hta*, in which the light of the lamp 


LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 


2C9 


vas strangely reflected, -were fixed and blind to what passed around, 
their owner being plunged in a deep stupor-like sleep. 

It was some time before she could really believe this to be a fact ; but 
when she did realize her position it gave her courage ; while, as she tried 
to recall what had pjissed, she wondered how it had all come about. 

Her common-sense soon told her she had fainted entirely from fright, 
and that her suspicion concerning the water being drugged was ill- 
founded ; Avhile, on the other hand, as she gazed at Murad, her ideas 
gathered force, and she fully believed that her enemy had fallen into the 
trap that he had laid for his victim, and she wondered how long it would 
be before he awoke. 

Helen’s suspicions were correct. Murad had had some little experi- 
ence in the management and usage of the vegetable narcotics of the 
jungle, and believing from old experiments he had made that he could 
drink with impunity the clear wine from the top of the prepared vessel, 
he had, to disarm her suspicions, partaken thereof, leaving the strong 
thick portion for his victim, taking care to agitate it at the time of 
pouring out. 

He was, however, wrong, for the narcotic he had xised was a particu- 
larly strong preparation, and the clear portion at the top of the bottle 
contained ample quantity of the poison to overcome him in the fancied 
moment of his triumph, leaving him prone at his prisoner’s feet. 

The dizziness passed off ; but for a few minutes the girl felt that she 
dared not stir for fear that at the least motion on her part her perse- 
cutor might awaken; and in this spirit she remained for some time, 
listening to the heavy breathing, and watching intently, as if fiiscinated 
by the dark eyes that at times seemed gazing into hers. 

At last, however, she gained a little more courage, and cautiously made 
a step or two towards the door. 

Then she paused and listened, and gazed at the prostrate figure, fan- 
cying that she had detected some slight movement; but satisfying her- 
self at last that Murad still slept, she went on once more step by step, 
her heart palpitating wildly, till she reached the door, when a louder 
inspiration than usual made her turn sick with dread, and she had to 
cling to the framework to keep from falling. ^ 

Finding, however, that Murad did not stir, she once more gained 
courage; and rousing herself for the effort, she drew aside the heavy 
matting curtain with cautious hand, tried the fastening of the door — 
groAving more bold moment by moment as she strove to get it open — 
but all in vain. The handle Avould not stir, and it seemed to her that 
there must be a great bar across on the outside, making prisoners of 
both her and her captor. 

It Avas not until the utter hopelessness of her effort dawned upon her 
that she gave up her task and turned to the AvindoAv, 

Here her efforts Avere equally vain, for the grill was formed of stout 
bamboos secured Avith roUin cane, bound at the intersections, and so 
strong, that without a powerful edge-tool even a stout-hejirted man 
might well have given up the tjisk in despair. 

Helen’s delicate fingers, then, failed cA^en to shake the bars ; and at 
last, thrusting her arms through she clasped her bands on the other 


270 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


side, and pressed her fevered brow to one of the openings that the soft 
night air might breathe upon it, and there she remained, alternately 
praying for help and listening to the Rajah’s heavy, stertorous breath. 

A couple of hours must have passed like this, and the silence was 
terrible. There was at times the hoarse roar of a tiger in the jungle, 
and the Rajah now and then muttered some words in his own tongue ; 
otherwise there was the regular breathing of the sleeper, and the dull 
thud — thud, thud — .thud of the prisoner’s palpitating heart. 

All at once there was a sharp exclamation and an uneasy movement 
which sent Helen’s blood bounding through her veins. 

The time of peril had arrived then ; and she thrust her arms more 
fully through the bamboo trellis, meaning to enlace her fingers firmly, 
and cling there to the last. 

It was a strong position which she had accidentally taken, and it 
now dawned upon her that it would need a tremendous effort to dis- 
lodge her from her hold. 

Here, then, she clung as the uneasy movement continued, and it 
was not for some time that she dared turn her head to look where, to 
her great relief, she found that Murad had Only slightly changed his 
position, and was still sleeping heavily. 

How long would this last, she asked herself, with a shiver of fear ; 
and then, in the reaction after the horror of a few minutes before, when 
she fancied her enemy was waking, she became weak— so weak that she 
sobbed hysterically, and almost hung from th.e bars of the window, for 
her legs refused to bear her up. 

But she recovered after awhile, and feeling sti’onger, satisfied herself 
that Murad was still sleeping heavily, and then stood gazing out at the 
darkness of the night. 

The dense foliage made it seem blacker ; but here and there the rays 
of a star penetrated to Avhere she was, and seemed like a promise of 
hope. The faint perfxime of flower and leaf made the soft, moist air 
odorous and sweet, and there was a delicious coolness that seemed to 
give strength to her enervated frame. 

Erei*y now and then came the ominous cry of some wandering tiger 
following the narrow jungle paths, and at times there were strange, 
mystex’ious sounds, evidently arising from the forest depths, and to 
which she could give no name, but which sent a shudder through her 
frame, as she thought that ere long she might bo wandering there in 
the darkness, running the risk of an attack from one or other of the 
fierce beasts that haunted those shades. 

But as these thoughts crossed her mind, she glanced back at where 
the sleeping figure of Murad lay full in the light of the lamp, and she 
felt that she would sooner risk the danger to be incuiwed by vandering 
through the jungle than remain another hour beneath that roof, 

It must, from the time that seemed to have elapsed, have been near 
morning when, as she stood there with her weary head pressed against 
the bamboo bai^s, the cry of a tiger sounded very close at hand, followed 
a few minutes later by a low, rustling noise, as if the creature were 
forcing its way through the dense undergrowth towards the house. 

This ceased, and then went on, again and again, till, forgetting the 


LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 


271 


peril that threatened her in the room, Helen strained her eyes to try 
and make out the long, lithe, striped form of the advancing tiger, 
which appeared to ho approaching with the greatest caution the window 
where she stood. 

It was so unmistakably making for where she stood, that Helen felt 
a chill of horror run through her, thinking that sooner or later the 
fierce beast would make a tremendous spring, and perhaps force its 
paws through between the bars and seize her as its prey. 

So horrible was the impression that once more she felt fascinated, 
and gazed down with starting eyes her enlaced fingei's clutching more 
tightly, and her whole being as if under the influence of a nightmare. 

Then, all at once, the rustling noise ceased, and she stood listening 
intently for the next approach or for the final spring. 

Hut even if she had known that the next moment the approaching 
tiger Avould launch itself thi-ough the air and seize her with its claws, 
she could not have stirred, for it seemed to be her fate. 

The silence now awful: so perfectly still seemed everything that 
the breathing of Murad grew painfully loud, and the throbbing of her 
own heart more pronounced. 

“ Is ho asleep ? ” said a low voice just then from out of the darkness 
where she stood, and Helen’s heart gave a great bound ; for in the 
voice she recognized the tones of the Malay girl, who had that evening 
been dragged from her side. 

Eor a few moments the reaction was so great that Helen could 
hardly speak ; and when at last she could master her emotion, her 
dread was still so great that the words would hardly come. 

“ Speak low ! ” whispered the girl ; and cautiously and beneath her 
breath, lest their common enemy should awake, each proceeded to make 
known her position to the other. 

By degrees Helen learned from the girl, who spoke in a bitter, half- 
distant way, that she had been shut up in a room by herself, and 
threatened with death, but that she had immediately set to work to 
escape, and had succeeded by climbing up, and tearing a hole through 
the palm thatch, forcing her way out, and sliding afterwa.rds down the 
steep slope, and falling pretty heavily amongst the bushes below. 

She was not much hurt, however ; and after lying still for a long 
time to make sure that she was not heard, she had slowly forced her 
way through the dense undergrowth, making a long circuit so as to 
approach the window of the room where Helen was a prisoner without 
exciting attention. 

“You must speak lower,” she said, “or he will w'ake ; and then 
Helen told her of the drugged wdne — or, rather, of her suspicions that 
the wine was drugged. 

“ And he drank it ! ” cried the gii’l, excitedly. “Ah, then, that is 
right,” ami her whole manner changed. “ He will not wake up till 
long after sunrise. I know what that poison will do. I drank of it 
when I wjis first brought here, and I slept for one whole day. We 
need not be afraid of him then, but we must mind not to W’aken the 
other people near.” 

She ceased speaking, and Helen heard a loud rustling and panting 

18 


272 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


noise, and a few minutes later a dark face rose to a level wiili hers, and 
she clasped the Malay girl towards her and began to sob. 

The girl kissed her through the bars, there being just space enough 
for their faces to approach, and then, with an eager look at the sleep- 
ing figure, she whispered that it was time to act. 

“ But what, shall we do — what can we do ? ” whispered Helen. 

“ You said you wanted to leave him, and that you Avould take mo 
back with you to j’^our own people. Will you do so now ? ” 

“Oh, yes, yes,” whispered Helen, excitedly; “make haste and let 
us go ! ” 

“ But are you sure that you wish to leave him ? ” said the girl, 
dubiously. 

“ Oh, yes — yes — yes ! ” cried Helen, so eagerly that the girl uttered 
a warning “ hush,” and then apparently satisfied, bade her bo still 
while she tried to make a way to her. 

For answer Helen stood listening, while the girl seemed to climb 
xipwards and sidewise, standing with her feet resting upon the bars of 
the open window ; and for some time there was a low tearing and rust- 
ling noise, as if an effort was being made to cut through the bamboo 
and cane-woven wall. 

This went on for some time and then ceased, to Helen’s great relief, 
for Murad had several times moved uneasily, and it seemed to her that 
the noise had awakened him. 

There was a slight rustling then, and the Malay girl came back to 
her former position. 

“ I cannot do it,” she whispered. “It would take strong men with 
parangs, and I am only a weak girl with a kris.” 

“ Can we not escape, then ? ” panted Helen, whose lieart sank. 

“Yes; but not that way. It must be through the roof, for the 
attap is only soft and the strings thin. I think I can manage to cut 
through there.” 

As her words left her lips they both clung there as if paralyzed, for, 
uttering a hoarse gasp, Murad struggled to his feet and staggered 
towards them with an angry cry. 


CHAPTER LXVIT. 

A FAITHFUL ALLY. 

Tub alarm was not of long duration, for it soon became evident that 
Murad was still under the influence of the powerful narcotic. He did 
not see either of the other oceupants of the room, but staggered here 
and there for a few moments, and then sank heavily once more upon 
the mats, placing his head in an easy position, and falling into a heavy 
sleep, his breathing sounding deep and regular to the trembling girls. 

“ We need not mind,” said the Malay girl at last. “ lie cannot hear 
me. I will climb up.’* 


A FAITHFUL ALLY. 


273 


The bars of the window formed a ladder for her ascent, and she 
clambered slowly up till her feet were resting upon the topmost 
bar. Then there was a rustling and cutting noise, and every now and 
then a dull pat, sis of something falling into the bushes below. 

It was a terrible position for Helen, who, unable to assist, could only 
listen and keep her eyes fixed on Murad, whom she momentarily 
expected to see arise wrathfully and call for help to seize the brave 
girl working so hard without to obtain freedom for both. 

Then, as the llajah still remained breathing heavily, another form of 
dread attacked her ; she felt sure that some of the guards or people 
must hear this loud rustling noise, so that it was with an intense 
feeling of relief that Helen heard the sounds cease. Then there wafe a 
louder rustling as of someone drawing herself up, and directly after 
the Malay girl climbed down into the room, Helen clasping her tightly 
in her arms. 

The girl freed herself hastily and went across to where Murad lay 
sleeping, bent down over him, gazing steadily in his face, and then 
turned with a bitter laugh. 

“ I have said good-bye to him, so now let us go. If I look at him 
again I shall never be able to leave. Let us escape.” 

“But how? ” exclaimed Helen, helplessly. 

“How?” said the girl. “Why, as I came in. I have opened the 
way,” and she pointed to the ragged hole in the palm thatch. 

“ I could not climb up there,” exclaimed Helen, with a look of help- 
lessness and despair in her countenance ; “it is impossible ! ” 

“ You white people !” cried the girl — “ yoxi are poor, and weak, and 
helpless ! But come, you must go. Murad will soon waken, and what 
will you do then ? ” 

The mention of that name and the prospect of the awaking 
seemed to nerve Helen to the effort she was called upon to make ; and 
in answer to a fresh demand made upon her by her companion, she 
declared her readiness, 

“ I will go first,” said the girl, and with the nimbleness of a cat she 
seized the bars of the window, went up them like a ladder, and with an 
agility that made Helen, r.s she watched her in the dim light shed up 
there by the lamp, look upon her movements as almost miraculous. 

Drawing herself quickly up she passed through the hole in the 
attap roof, crawling right out; and directly after, having turned, Helen 
saw her leaning through. 

“ Now : come — quick ! ” whispered the girl. “ Step up the w'indow- 
bars as I did, and then give me your hands. You shall not full ; I will 
hold you. ” 

Helen made a couple of weak, ineffective trials to climb up and reach 
her friend, but sank back, and was ready to burst into feeble tears and 
give up in despair; but Murad uttered some angry w'ords and threw 
out one arm, w’hieh fell heavily back upon the floor. 

The noise electrified Helen, who darted to the window-bars, and how 
she managed she hardly knew, but she climbed up, caught spasmodiailly 
at the Malay girl’s band, at the bamboo rahers, and partly by 
her own effort, partly by the girl’s exertion, was dragged up through 


274 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


the palm-leaf roof, and sat -with her companion holding on tightly 
to the steep slope. 

Here she rested, panting and trembling, so that the girl did not 
make any further effort for a few minutes, and even then it was Helen 
who proposed that they should move, placing her lips close to the 
other’s ear, and asking wildly what they should do next. 

For answer the girl climbed over her, made Helen move slightly, and 
then, seating herself w’ith her legs through the hole, she took off the 
sarong Avorn veil-fashion over her shoulders, and twisting it tightly, 
tied it to the one Helen wore, making of the two a strong silken rope, 
one end of Avhich she secured to the trembling prisoner’s left wrist. 

“ Now,” she whispered, “ I will hold you by this. Let yourself slide 
softly till you touch the bars with your feet, and then climb down. 
Afterwards hang from the sarongs, and I will lower you as far as I 
can. ” 

Helen drew a long, deep breath, trembling the while, for the height 
and- position in which they were seemed to her to be awful ! 

Hut she did not shrink now ; she felt committed to the desperate 
enterprise ; and holding on by the tough palm-leaves, she lowered her- 
self down the steep roof, and then clung to the Avoodwork Avith all her 
strength, as her feet were suspended now over the darkness, and she 
sought foothold for them with desperate haste. 

lint for the steady strain upon her wrist she would have fallen ; but 
this encouraged her to reneAved effort, and after a few trials, and just 
as she began to feel that her task Avas hopeless, her right foot touched 
and rested upon one of the bars, and taking a fresh hold, she stepped 
doAvn,. slipped, AA’^as held by the tight tension of the silken rope, suA'cd 
herself, and the next minute stood panting, Avith hands and feet 
sustained by the stoiit bamboo trellis of the windoAV. 

Here she paused for a feAV moments, Avhen once more it was Murad 
Avho startled her into action, and she loAA'ered herself down till she Avas 
hanging by the sill of the AvindoAV, seeking for some support for her 
feet, her companion jerking the sarong sharply to urge her on. 

But Helen had exhausted herself by her efforts, and could do no 
more. She tried once feebly, but there Avas no result ; .and to make 
matter’s worse, the Malay girl Avas noAV straining the sarong as if afraid 
that she would fall. 

There Avas a faint cry, a slip, the sarong w'as held tightly, and Helen 
fell with a jerk that seemed to drag her left arm from the socket. She 
swung for a moment, and the silken rope aa^as loAvered so rapidly, that 
she seemed to be falling. Then she did fall with a crash amongst the 
bushes, Avhat seemed to her to be an immense distance, though it Av.as 
only some h<alf-dozen feet, and she lay perfectly still, feeling that she 
Avas terribly hurt. 

She Avas half stunned by the fall and the excitement; but her 
companion climbed down lightly, and bent over her in the darkness. 

“ Quick ! ” she Avhispered. “ Someone must liaA^e heard you fall ? 
Are you hurt ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Not much,” faltered Helen, as she struggled to her 
feet, the girl meanAvhilo hastily rolling the sarong round Helen’s arm, 


ANOTHER ESCAPE. 


catching then at her hand, and half dragging her through the tangled 
bushes, whoso thorns checked them, tearing their garb, while every now 
and then they had to stoop and cieep beneath the trees. 

In this way they h.ad made some fifty yards towards safety, when a 
fierce, snarling growl, which they both knew well enough to be that of 
a tiger, sounded away in front ; and almost simultaneously there was the 
report of a gun, then of another, and lights could be seen in the 
direction from which they had come. 

“ Which is it to be,” said the girl, hoarsely, “ Murad or the tiger? 
Say which you will choose, for they will either of them kill us wdlhout 
mercy I ” 


CHAPTER LXVIII. 

ANOTIIEU ESCAIE. 

“ The Inche Maida need have someone to drill and discipline her men,” 
whispered Chumbley to his companion, as, after walking up and down 
for a few minutes, they saw the two Malays whose duty it evidently 
was to guard their prison, light their pipes and then stroll away, their 
course being for a time indistinctly made out by the faint glow of one 
of the bowls. 

Mutually regretting that they had not made an attempt to escape 
sooner, since they were finding the task so easy, Hilton led the way, 
going cautiously step by step upon their blind quest of a path which 
should lead them to the river. 

That such a path w'ould exist they felt pretty sure, the river being 
the great highway of the land; and paths were so few, that they were 
pretty certain of its being the right one if they should hit upon a 
tr:ick. 

In spite of their efforts, though, first one and then the other leading, 
no path was found ; and at last, in utter despair, after being driven 
back again and again by the density of the jungle, they were compelled 
to sit down amongst the bushes edging the forest to wait for day. 

It ■was a grievous disappointment after escaping from the house and 
evading the guards. They had hoped to be miles away towards the 
river before daybreak, -whereas now the chances were that they would 
hardly place to their credit a hundred paces, even if they avoided the 
guards. 

Day seemed as if it would never come, and yet so persevering had 
been their efforts that the first streaks of dawn began to appear in less 
than an hour after they had seated themselves in wdiat proved to be a 
very fair hiding-place; and almost as they made their first step to 
reconnoitre, there was a flash of orange and gold in the sky. 

Chumbley pressed his companion’s hand, pointing as he did so to 
w'hat was evidently the pathway they had sought for ; and after a glance 
round they were about to step out into the open, and then run as 
quickly as they could into the shelter, pushing rapidly on to make the 
best of their -vvay into the depths of the jungle. 


276 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Hilton gave his companion a glance, and they were about to start off 
when a couple of spear-armed Malays took up their position on one side 
of the Inche Maida’s house, a couple more stiirtimr up from beneath a 
tree where they had been sleeping, and so near that the officers must 
have nearly trodden itpon them as they passed. 

Had the two young men not sunk down in their hiding-place they 
must have been seen, and it was evident now that the Inche Maida’s 
followers Avatched a part of the night, after which they lay doAvn to 
sleep, and rose again at daybreak to continue their guard. 

Regrets were unavailing, and it was as useless to wish themselves 
back in their comfortable prison, there to rest till niglit, Avhen they 
could have easily got away Avith the knoAvledge they possessed. 

Hilton uttered a u'eary sigh as he lay there tr;\ing to devise some 
means of escape ; and meauAvhile the sun rose higher, lighting up the 
dark places beyond where they lay, and shoAving them more and more 
that the slightest movement meant being seen ami offering themselves 
as marks to the Malays’ spears. 

They exchanged glances and lay perfectly still, with one of the 
Malays coming to and fro past them as he kept guard, and so near, 
that had he looked in their direction at the right moment, he must 
have seen them. 

A couple of hours had passed away Avhen the outcry that the 
fugitives had been expecting arose, the Inche Maida herself giving 
the alai*m and furiously bidding her people to join pursuit. ** 

Quite twenty well-armed men darted off through the opening into 
the jungle, the Princess following them at the end of a few mTnutes 
with half a dozen more of her folloAvers, leaving the palm and 
bamboo edifice apparently deserted, and the Avay free.*^ 

“ Now is our time. Chum ! ” Avhispered Hilton, and cautiously rising, 
they began to look for another path— one that Avould lead them to the 
water by a different route. 

They ran round the house tAvice, and then gazed at each other in 
despair. 

There was but one path, which led right to the opening in which the 
house was built. All around Avas impassable jungle ; and the only way 
to escape Avas to follow the Inche Maida and her men. 

The place was a regular trap, and could have been defended by a 
fcAV resolute felloAvs against hundreds if there Avas an attack. 

“ What’s to be done. Chum ? ” said Hilton. 

“ Go in and hide someAvhere, and Avaittill ni"ht.” 

“With those women to tell the Princess Avhe're we have hidden our- 
selves ! ’’said Hilton, angrily, pointing to a group of half-a-dozen women 
standing in the doorAvay and watching their movements. 

Chumbley made a few steps as if to go to them, when they scuttled 
off like so many rabbits in an English warren; and there were but two 
courses open to them — either to folloAV their Avould-be pursuers, or to 
calmly go back and wait for the Inche Maida’s return. 

“It wdll bo taking trouble for nothing to go after them,” said 
Chumbley, wearily. “Let’s go back to our room and order the women 
to bring us some breakfast.” 


ANOTHER ESCAPE. 


277 


“What? And give up without making an effort?” cried Hilton. 
“ I’d sooner die ! ” 

“I wouldn’t. But all right,” said Chumhley. ‘‘I’m with you; 
but we may as well bo armed.” 

He ran into the house, and as ho expected, had no difficulty in finding 
a couple of krises and cpears, one of each of which he handed to his 
friend ; and then they struck boldly into the jungle, following thejath 
taken by their enemies hour after hour ; and, though momentarily 
expecting to hear them returning, continuing their course in tho most 
uninterrupted way. 

It was always the same : a dense wall of verdure to right and left ; 
tall trees shutting out the sunshine, and the greatest care necessary to 
keep from falling into one or other of the great elephant holes. 

At last they came upon a placo tvhere the pathway forked ; and after 
a moment’s hesitation they chose the path to the right, that to the left 
being the one most likely to bring them nearer to their friends, and 
therefore, probably the one their pursuers had taken. 

In fact, hardly had they ffone a hundred yards down the way they 
had chosen, before they heard voices across the jungle, evidently those 
of their returning pursuers. 

This lent fresh wings to their feet, and they .hurried on, finding to 
their dismay that the enemy had turned into this path, and were now 
following them fast. 

It was a riice for liberty, perhaps for life; and whither the path led 
they could not tell. AVhenever they paused for a moment to listen, 
they could hear the voices of their pursuers ; and at last, panting, 
streaming with perspiration, their faces bleeding from contact with 
thorns, they glanced at each other, when, by mutual consent, they made 
another effort. The path took a turn, and Hilton uttered a cry of joy, 
for at the end of a long green tunnel there was the brilliant sunshine 
upon the river. 

This put new life into them ; and racing onward, they reached the 
water’s edge just as a couple of Malay fishermen were securing their 
sampan to a post. 

The sight of tho weapons, and the threatening words used by the 
desperate fugitives, silenced any opposition the fishermen might have 
made ; and as the two officers sprang aboard, the men loosened the rope, 
took their piddles, and the boativas round the bend of the river and out 
of sight before the Inche Maida’s followers reached the water’s edge. 
Before night the Residency island was in sight. 

Hilton had been very silent for some time, but at last he spoke ; 

“ Chum, old fellow,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about what wo are 
to say.” 

“Hilton, old fellow, I’ve been thinking the very same thing.” 

“ It would be too ridiculous to say that we had been carried off by 
a woman.” 

“ We should be roasted to death ! ” said Chumbley. 

“But she ought to be punished.” 

“ Can’t go and carry sword and fire into the woman’s homo because 
she took a fancy to you.” 


278 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Wli<afc are vre to say, then ? I dare not own to this affair! ” 

“I swear I won’t ! ” said Chumbley. 

“ Then what is to be done ? ” 

“ The only thing serins to me to bo that we had better say we were 
carried off by the Malays.” 

“ Which is a fact,” said Hilton. 

“Aiid wo wore taken to a place that wo had never seen before.” 

“ Another fact,” said Hilton. 

“ And kept prisoners.” 

“ Which is another fact.” 

“ I think that’s best,” said Chumbley. “It would bo horrible to go 
and take revenge upon this woman.” 

“ But she deserves to be "well punished.” 

“ Well, we are punishing her,” said Chumble}’’, “by coming away, 
and leaving her in a horrible stew, for she is safe to imagine that wo 
shall go back with a company, and destroy her place. Besides, sho 
will never dare to show her face at the settlement again.” 

“ Well, let the matter rest for the present,” said Hilton. “ Only let 
us thank our stars that we have escaped.” 

“ To be sure ! ” said Chumbley, with a sigh of relief. “ Poor woman, 
I should not like her to be hurt, sho behaved so well ; and — Hurrah I 
there’s Harley! Kow, you ruffians — row! There — to that landing- 
stage ! ” 

“ Then, as the men, who were in a great state of dread as to whether 
they should be allowed to depart, tremblingly placed the boat alongside 
the bamboo landing-stage, Hilton sprang out, Chumbley following, after 
placing some silver coin in the men’s haud.s, and sending them rejoicing 
away. 

“ What’s that ? ” cried Chumbley, as he caught part of a sentence and 
the Resident’s hand at the same moment. “ Miss Perowne missing ? ” 

“ Yes : curried off, I suppose now,” said the Resident, between his 
teeth. “ The same brain must have contrived your absence, though for 
what I don’t know, unless it was for ransom.” 

Hilton and Chumbley exchanged glances. 

“ Only one brain here could have plotted this,” cried the Resident, as 
he ma.«tered the fact of his friends having been made prisoners in some 
out-of-the-way place ; “and the brain was that of the doubly-dyed, 
treacherous scoundrel who has all along professed to be our friend, I 
always suspected it: Helen Perowne is a prisoner in Rajah Murad’s 
hands.” 


CHAPTER LXIX. 

UAMET. 

The" disposition on the part of Helen Perowne and her companion 
seemed to be to trust the beasts of the jungle sooner than the Rajah ; 
and after a few moments’ pause to listen, they went cautiously on, with 
the cries of the great cat-like creature that they knew to bo in their 


HAMET. 


27d 


DoighboTirhood seeming to grow more distant, as if it had been driven 
off by the noise and tiring at the house. 

It was terrible work that flight ; and had she been alone Helen would 
have given up in sheer despair, for every atom of growth in the jungle 
seemed to be enlisted in the Kajah’s service, and strove to check the 
fugitives as they fled. Great thorns hooked and clung to their clothes ; 
ratan canes wound across and across their way, tripping them up, so 
that again and again they fell heavily; while the dense undergrow'th 
rose up constantly like a wall of verdure, as impenetrable as some mon- 
strous hedge. 

Streaming with perspiration, panting with exhaustion, and ready to 
give up in despair, Helen struggled on, nerved to making fresh attempts 
by the courage of her companion ; but at last the jungle was so dense 
that any further effort seemed like so much madness, and they paused 
to rest, Helen sinking down amidst the thorns and leaves, too much 
exhausted to move. 

The Malay girl did not speak, but stood leaning against a tree-trunk, 
listening for tokens of pursuit, but there was not a sound ; and by degrees 
it dawned upon them that the Hajah’s people had taken alarm at the 
noise, and then, seeing nothing, hearing nothing more, they bad quietly 
returned to their rest; for the probabilities Avere that they would not 
venture to disturb the Hajah, who would sleep on in his stupor perhaps 
till mid-day. 

After a time the girl laid her hand upon Helen’s shoulder. 

“We must try again,” she said ; and wdth a Avcary sigh the fugitive 
rose and staggered on, following her companion as she tore aside the 
canes, pushed back thorny growth, and utterly regardless of self, kept 
on making a way for Helen to follow. 

There was a strong display of kindness in her manner, but it was not 
unmingled with contempt for the helplessness of the English girl, who 
had to trust entirely to her for every step of their progress. 

Just at the very worst time, when they had again become entangled 
in the wild jungly maze, the Malay giid stopped once more to take 
breath ; and then making an angry effort to free herself from a bramble- 
like growth that was tearing her sarong into shreds, she uttered a cry 
of joy, for she found that she had broken through quite a thorny hedge 
of growth and was now standing in a narrow pathAvay, evidently the 
track made by elephant, buffalo, or other large creatures of the 
jungle. 

Her cheery words aroused Helen to fresh exertion ; and following the 
track, painful as it was, and full of crossing strands and canes, they got 
on for the next two or three hours pretty well, when they seemed to 
have descended into marshy ground through which the track led. 

Here they found a fresh difficulty, for if the 3Ialay girl had had any 
doubt before that they were in an elephant path, it Avas made eA'ident 
noAV by the series of great footprints, every one of which was a pitfall 
of mud and Avatcr, the custom of these huge beasts being to step invari- 
ably in the tracks left by those that have passed before, believing them 
to be indications of safety ; and the result is that in a short time the 
path becomes in a wet soil one long series of muddy holes. 


280 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


It 'vras along such a as this that Helen and her companion 
struggled on till the sun had risen and the rich shafts of orange and 
gold came pouring through the dense foliage above their heads. 

With the sunrise came light and hope. The sombre forest seemed to 
be less depressing, and when they had struggled on for another hour, 
until the heat began to bo steamy, a brighter light shone through the 
trees ahead, and they awakened to the fact that they were near the little 
river, whose banks they at last reached, to He down beneath the spread- 
ing branches of a huge tree. The boughs formed a screen from every- 
one who might be passing in a boat; and here the Malay girl pro- 
duced some food which she had had the foresight to bring ; and this 
they ate, watching the rapid, sparkling stream, whcse path through the 
jungle was all sunshine and light, while that of the fugitives had been 
one of gloom. 

As they sat there resting, they now and then directed their attention 
to the stream, gazing up and down as far as their eyes would reach 
in search of danger ; but sparkling water, blossom-burdened trees, and 
the occasional glint of some brightly-pluniagod bird darting from side 
to side, was all that met their sight. 

They both meant to be watchful, and as soon as they were rested 
to once more continue their flight, but the exhaustion produced by their 
unwonted exertions proved to be too much for them, and as the heat 
increased they both fell into a deep sleep. 

Helen and her companion had been slumbering heavily for several 
hours, ignorant of the flight of time, and in these brief restful moments 
thoughts of peaceful days had come back to both ; while in the sunshine 
beyond the tree that formed their shelter birds flitted hero and there, 
the brilliant armour-clad beetles winged their reckless flight, making a 
whirring hum as they dashed over the stream. The surface of the river 
was flecked with the rising of the bright-scaled fish, and what with the 
varied greens and the beauty of the blossoms that made the sides of the 
little river quite a garden, all looked peaceful, and as if trouble could 
not exist upon earth. Hut danger was near, for two of the Rajah’s 
boats came slowly up stream with their occupants parting the leaves 
with bamboo poles, and peering beneath on either side in search of the 
fugitives ; while, in utter ignorance of their proximity, the wearied 
girls slept on. 

A tall, fierce-looking Malay, in a brilliantly-tinted sarong, stood in 
the prow of the boat nearest to the fugitives, and ho was so inde- 
fatigable in his efforts to examine every foot of the way, that it seemed 
impossible for the girls to escape his search. 

Nearer came his boat, and still those the crow sought lay insensible 
to danger, and with Helen’s thoughts far back in the past of her 
pleasant days with her friends at the little settlement. The tall Malay 
used the light pole he held with the utmost skill, and parted bough 
after bough, raising this one, depressing that until it was down in the 
swift, pure water. 

Every now and then he gave some short, sharp order to the men who 
paddled the boat, so that they sent it in closer or forced it back, giving 
him abundant opportunity for seeing anyone upon the bank ; and in 


HAMET. 


2dl 


this way they approached the great tree beneath whose umbrageous 
foliage the two girls slept. 

The boat w;is sent close in, and the swarthy face of the Malay peered 
between the branches, which he moved with the pole, so that over and 
over again they helped to shelter those who were sought., and at last 
the sharp order was given to back out from among the branches; but 
the moment after the leader rescinded his order and seemed to bo 
desirous of searching more, for he raised a broad-leaved bough, held on 
by it, and looked in once more beneath the shade, shot with brilliant 
rays, and with flies dancing up and down in one broad band of sunshine. 

That broad band of sunshine shone right athwart the Malay girl’s 
faco, and as the searcher saw it a grim smile of satisfaction played for 
a moment about hi.s lip, and then left him stern-looking and calm. 

“ Go on,” he exclaimed, in his own tongue as -ho loosed the branch 
whose leaves hid the sleeping girl from sight, and the boat went forward, 
the Malay peering back for a moment with his great opalescent eye- 
balls rolling as he looked up and down the great tree, as if fixing it in 
his mind with the surroundings on either side of the stream. After 
this he went on in the same matter-of-fact way, pres.sing the branches 
aside and examining his Iwnk of the river for quite an hour longer, 
when the leader of the other boat, which was well in advance, hailed 
him, and proposed that they should give up the search as of no avail. 

The other searcher made a little demur, when the other became more 
pressing. 

“ They could not have wandered up so far as this,” ho said ; and the 
tall Malay reluctantly acquiescing, the two boats were turned, a man 
placed a paddle over the stern for steering purposes, the other paddles 
were laid in by tlie weary rowers, who, leaving the boats to descend the 
swift stream, settled themselves in easy attitudes, pulled out their 
betel boxes and leave.s, and each man, after smearing a sirih leaf 
with a little paste of lime, rolled up in it a fragment of the popular 
betel-nut, and sat back with half-closed eyes, chewing, as if that were 
the be-all and end-all of existence. 

The boats sped rapidly down stream, past the glorious panorama of 
tropic vegetation spread on either side : but it wsis not noticed once 
save by the tall Malay, who sat back in the prow with his bamboo pole 
balanced in his hands, lazily peering out of his half-closed eyes. 

As they approached the huge tree, beneath whose shade the two 
weary girls lay resting, the Malay’s dark eyes opened slightly, as if ho 
Were again carefully observant of the place. Then they half closed 
once more, then quite closed, and he seemed to go fast asleep. 

Then the two boats r.ipidly glided down with the current and dis- 
appeared. 

The sun, which had before been shining straight down upon the river, 
had gone westward, and had begun to cast shadows across the foaming 
stream, when once more a boat appeared, but only propelled by one 
man, who, armed with a long polo, stood in the stern, as he kept close 
in under the trees, and thrusting the pole down in the bubbling water, 
forced the little vessel along at a rapid rate. 

Ho did not look cither to right or left, but aimed straight for the 


282 


ONE MAID’S MISCinEF. 


great tree, and even then passed it, but only to alter the course of the 
boat a little, and let it glide back right beneath the branches and 
close in shore, M^here he silently secured it, and then stepped out to 
where the Malay girl still sleeping. 

Ho stood looking at her for a few moments before kneeling softly 
down at her side, when, with a light, firm touch, he placed one hand 
upon her right wrist and the other upon her lips. 

The girl stai*ted into wakefulness, and would have shrieked, but the 
hand across her lips stayed her. She would have seized the kris with 
which she was armed, but her wrist was pinioned. 

She gazed with fierce and angry eyes straight into her captor’s f;\co, 
and thus for some moments they remained till he raised his hand. 

“ Well,” she said, “you have taken me.” 

“ Yes ; at last,” ho replied, in the same low voice as that in which 
the captured girl had spoken. 

Involuntarily the Malay girl’s eyes turned towards her companion, 
but she closed them directly, believing that Helen had not been 
seen. 

“ Yes, she is there,” he said, in a low whisper. “ I saw her before 
I saw you. ” 

“And now you are going to drag us back to Murad?” said the 
girl, adopting his tone. “ How proud Hamet must feel now that he 
has become a slave-catcher ! ” 

“ I did not say I was going to take you back to Murad,” he said, 
laughing. “ Do you wash me to take you back to have the kris ? ” 

The girl shuddered, for she knew that this would be her fate ; but 
with true Eastern spirit she recovered herself. 

“ What matter ? ” she said, indifferently. “ I do not mind.” 

“ You do mind,” ho said ; “ and you want to live.” 

“ Yes : then let me go,” she replied. 

“ No ; I was sent to take you, and I have found you.” 

“But you do not mean to take mo back to Murad?” she cried, 
angrily. He laughed again. 

“ It is for you to decide,” he continued, in a low voice. “ I, Hamet, 
have loved you long now — ever since Murad grew tired of you and 
cast you off. You know it.” 

“Yes,” she said, sullenly, “I know it. You have told me before; 
and if I had told the Sultan he w'ould have had you slain.” 

“Both of us,” said the tall Malay, coolly. “But now we are away 
from him and free. Will you listen to me ? ” 

“ I must,” she said, scornfully. “ I cannot help it.” 

“ Yes ; you could help it,” he said ; “ but you wdll not. I am obliged 
to take this opportunity, and I do, for I could not bear to see you hurt. ” 

“And yet you came to seek me ? ” 

“ Yes and to save you. Two boats have been searching for you this 
afternoon, but only my eyes saw you. Had it been any others, you 
would have been in Murad’s power by now.” 

“Did you come and see us sleeping ? ” she said, eagerly. 

“Yes. How else could I have known that you w^ere hero waiting 
to be caught ? ” 


THROUGH THE AVILES. 


283 


“And now tli.-it you have caught me,” she said, indifferently, 
“ wliat docs Hainct mean to do ! ” 

“ Ls it Hamet, Murad’s officer — or Ilamet your friend ? ” 

“ How can I tell ? ” she said, indifferently. “ You are a catcher of 
slaves, and you have taken two. Are you happy ? ” 

“ No,” he said, earnestly. “ Make me happy.” 

“ How ? Tell me what are your plans ? ” 

“ To save you if I can ; but either you become my wife, or you go 
back to Murad. My orders are to take you. ” 

The girl remained perfectly silent for a few minutes, during which 
the tall Malay watched her intently. 

“If I say I will be your wife, and go w'ith you now back to your 
place, will you let her go free — where she will ? ” said the girl. 

“ Y'es,” 1:^3 said, eagerly. “ I will not see her ; she may go where 
she will.” 

The girl hesitated for a few moments, and then tried to rise, but the 
Malay held her tightly by the wrist. 

“I shall not try to run,” she said, scornfully. “Loose my arm.” 

The Malay hesitated, gazing full in her eyes- He then tossed the 
girl’s arm lightly from him. 

“I will trust you,” ho said; and then he looked on curiously, as fho 
Malay girl stooped softly over Helen, and just brushed her hair with 
her lips so gently that the sleeping girl did not stir. Then, turning 
to the Malay : 

“ Are you alone ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes : quite. I saw you before ; but I did not want to capture you 
for Murad. Now, it is to be as I say ? Will you come ? ” 

The girl glanced once more at Helen ; then placing her hand in that 
of the Malay, she let him lead her a few paces along tlie bank, and assist 
her into a seat, whore, taking his place in the prow, he silently loosened 
the boat, guided it softly past the boughs, so that there was not even 
the rustle of a leaf ; then, letting the pole dip into the water, he gave 
one powerful thrust, and the sampan darted out into mid-stream, and 
then rapidly glided out of sight, just as the shadows were deepening 
across the river and an orange glow began to tinge the surface of the 
leaves. 


CHAPTER LXX. 

THROUGH THE WILDS. 

Helen wmke wdth a st.art just as the boat disappeared round the cur/o 
at the end of the reach, and her first movement was towards where her 
companion had lain down. 

At first she could not believe that she was alone, but sat waiting for 
the girl’s return, believing that .she had awakened first, and had gone 
for a short distance to try for a better path ; but as the minutes sped, 
and the darkness w'ould, as she well knew, soon return, a strange sensa- 
tion of horror began to trouble her, and she started to her feet, and began 


284 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


to search around in various directions, even going so far as to call in a 
low voice. 

She dare not go far for fear that her companion should return and find 
her absent, so she kept making little excursions here and there where 
the denseness of the jungle was not so great, and then returned to where 
she had slept. 

Parting the boughs on either side, she then crept as near to the river 
as she could, so as to look up and down stream, for what purpose she 
could not tell, though it seemed as if an instinct led her to gaze at the 
highway by which her companion had departed. 

It was now rapidly growing dark, and the feeling of depression and 
alarm rapidly increased. So thoroughly frightened did she become at last 
that she would gladly have called for help, but her common-sense warned 
her that such a proceeding would only bring down her enemies upon hei 
if they were in hearing ; and at last, with her horror of her loneliness 
increasing fast, and a feeling of dread that some savage beast of prey 
had seized upon the Malay girl gradually overmastering her, she sank 
upon the earth, weeping bitterly, helpless as a child and asking her- 
self if she dared face all those she knew again, and whether she had not 
better die. 

How that night passed Helen never knew. Sometimes she sank into 
a weary kind of stupor, full of troublous dreams, from which she started 
awake with a sense of horror, and a full belief that some terrible 
creature was about to spring upon her. At times too, as if to carry out 
this illusion, she listened with beating heart to the distant howl of some 
wandering beast, or to one or other of the mysterious noises heard dur- 
ing the night in the primeval wilds. 

The darkne-es seemed as if it would never end, and the rushing river, 
as it sped on like a stream of ink full of starry reflections, hissed and 
writhed and at times lapped the bank upon which Srhe sat as if it wore a 
huge serpent seeking to make her its prey. 

This idea suggested the loathsome monsters that she knew would 
haunt the hot, steamy jungle close to the river side ; and with starting 
eyes, when some low rustle was heard amongst the leaves, she tried to 
pierce the darkness, believing over and over again that she stiw some 
lithe, undulating reptile gradually approaching her ; and at such times 
it required all her strength of mind to determine that it was but a mere 
fancy, and as unreal as the images of fiei'ce creatures that she more 
than once believed that she saw coming out of the jungle. 

Then her busy brain reminded her of other and more real perils of 
her position — the more dangerous from their insidious nature and 
approach. Depressed in spirit as she was, she could not help recalling 
the accounts she had heard of the deadly fevers, and the certainty of 
their attacking anyone -who passed the night upon the bare earth. 

Still, it would only mean death at the worst, she thought, in a weary, 
despondent way ; and her misery was so great now that she felt ready 
to give up her very life sooner than fall again into Murad’s hands. 

Then her thoitghts flew to Harley, with whom she seemed to associate 
any hope that she might have of the future ; and for a time she would 
brighten up, and contrast her present position with that of some few 


THllOUGH THE WILDS. 


28 ry 

hotirs back. She was a prisoner then, and in terrible peril ; now she was 
free, and the chances were, she hopefully told herself, that she nii"ht 
fall in with some party sent in search of her, for she would not believe 
Murad’s version of her disappearance to be true. 

It seemed to her as if the morning would never come, and the first 
herald of its approach was a dank, chilling breath that came to her 
laden with the mist of the river ; and as she sat and shivered, she felt 
that her clothes were saturated with the heavy dew, and longed now 
for the coming of the sun with its waimi, inspiring beams and hopeful 
light. 

Her teeth chattered, and her limbs ached as the day broke. She had 
been awake for quite a couple of hours ; and the weariness and oppression 
that troubled her was now supplemented by a throbbing headache, 
which was at times almost more than she could bear. 

As the sun sent his beams glancing through the jungle, Helen rose 
painfully to her feet, gladly seizing the bough of a tree to cling to and 
support herself till the giddy sensation that oppressed her wore off. 

And now, in place of the chill from which she had suffered, she began 
to burn ; hands, cheeks, temples seemed as if they were on fire ; there 
was a misty unreality in the waving branches of the tree as it overhung 
the river; and as she stood there, trying to master the giddiness that 
oppressed her, she felt as if this were only the continuance of one of the 
disturbed dreams that had haunted her during the darkness. 

Then the fit passed away almost .as suddenly as it had come ; and try- 
ing to shake off the wearisome Lassitude that oppressed her, she began to 
move forward along the slightly-beaten track that ran onward a few 
yards from the edge of the river, one evidently made by the wild 
creatures that from time to time came down to drink, or made the 
bjinks of the river their home. 

It was an arduous journey, for she had constantly to stoop down to 
enable her to pass beneath the interlacing boughs and parasites that 
crossed the path in all directions; but still she progressed, sometimes 
strong and hopeful, more often wearied by lassitude, and at times 
compelled to cling to the branches as she stimagled on, her head reeling, 
her eyes blinded by pain, and the feeling of unreality coming on more 
strongly with each attack ; till at last she went on, forcing her way 
through the jungle in a state of wild delirium, muttering incoherently 
as she staggered on. 

A blind kind of instinct seemed to keep her to the savage track near 
the bank of the river, .and the same strange instinct led her from time to 
time to lie down in some convenient place to lap the cool, fresh water 
from her hand, and bathe her burning cheeks and brow. 

As the day wore on and the heat increased, Helen’s journey bec.ame 
to her a blind kind of dream. She had a sort of instinct .as guide that 
she must get farther away — struggle on at any cost, in spite of heat, 
weariness, and the delirium th.at robbed her of her reason ; and stag- 
gering forw'ard with the hands bleeding that beat back the thorns and 
parasites’enl.acing her path, sunset still found her at the task. 

^ How long this lasted Helen could not tell. She had a sort of memory 
of always hearing the rushing river, and of sometimes lying down to 


2S6 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


liatho her face and drink. She knew, too, that she was in pain, and 
that the thorns cut her feet and tore her clothes ; but pain and suffer- 
ing were as nothing so long as she could struggle on. 

Then a feeling of anger came over her at the Malay giiTs desertion, 
for this Avas a ncAV light in which she vieAVcd her absence ; and at last 
she toiled on till the trees seemed to come to an end, and it was only 
her weary torn feet noAV that were hindered by low, thorny, interlacing 
bushes. These, too, at hist almost came to an end ; and she seemed to 
be climbing, slipping, and falling over rocks that sloped rapidly down 
to the river. Sometimes she had to clamber right .away, because the 
rocks toAvered up above her head and became impassable. 

Then once more she AA'ould be slipping and falling loAver and lower 
towards where the river foamed, and flashed, and gurgled, plashing 
over stones, rushing over masses of rock, but ever singing a pleasant 
kind of music to her ear, for it seemed to be her friend and guide. 

It never seemed to occur to her confused brain that in place of going 
doAvn the river tcAvards civilization, she Avas painfully climbing up 
towards the mountains, where the river had its rise in the Avildest parts, 
in a district only inhabited by the Sakais — the aborigines of the 
country — or as they Avere generally called, the hill-men. 

This AA'as nothing to her, for her blind instinct led her to struggle on 
till, as in a dream, she saAv the help that she had believed Avould come. 

Her brain was more beclouded than ever, but she had some instinct 
of Avhat she ought to do, and that Avas to make sign.als. 

Then she blindly struggled on towards that help, grew faint and her 
poAA'cr left her. She fell, and lay moaning on the rocky earth ; 
struggled up once more to continue her efforts to reach friends but in 
vain : her poAver seemed to leave her now for good, and she sank down 
unable to rise again, her next recollection being that she Avas lying back 
upon a rough couch, Avith a familiar face bending OA'er her, and then 
all was mist. 

Then she was back at the old school, and in trouble with her in- 
structresses for insisting upon going out upon a hot day Avith insufficient 
protection to her head. She Avas feverish and slightly delirious, and 
the doctor had been sent for. How familiar his voice sounded .and hoAv 
cool and pleasant his hands were to her heated brow ; and she layback 
there wondering Avhy Gray Stuart did not come; Avhy it Avas so long 
before a letter came from her father in the Malay peninsula ; and then 
her head began to throb, for she had had, she felt, a terrible dream 
about having joined him there and been seized and carried off, as she 
had read in books of hapless maidens being abducted from their homes. 
It seemed so real that terrible dream, that she could picture the face of 
the man Avho had dragged her aAvay. 

Then mist once more, and a sort of aAvakening, as if sunlight h.ad 
come through the mist, .and she Avas in the garden Avith the Ileverend 
Arthur iloselniry, Avho looked strange in his long coat, as he stooped 
to pick her floAvers, and handed one to her that had a shape like 
a cxip ; .and he said to her “ Drink — drink ! ” and in her dream she 
seemed to drink, expecting to find that out of that lloAver-CAip she would 
drink honey, while this was intensely bitter; and it Avas not a flt'Aver- 


DR. BOLTER’S SPIRIT. 


287 


cup, but metal, and it was not the Reverend Arthur Rosebury who 
offered the cup to her, but someone else ; and while she was trying to 
listen w^ho it was, for she could not see, all became silent once again, 
and blank, and she knew no more. 


CHAPTER LXXI. 

DOCTOR bolter’s SPIRIT. 

Gold ! What ideas that one word opens out — what magic it contains 1 
But credit must be given to Doctor Bolter for the fact that it was no 
soi'did love of the yellow metal that prompted him to search for gold. 

He -wanted it for no luxury : he had no wealthy man’s desires to 
quell ; all he wished was to make that grand discovery that would 
prove the Malay Peninsula to have been the Ophir to which King 
Solomon’s ships came in search of treasure; and of this he wanted 
ample proof, such as he could lay before a committee of learned men. 
How was it to be obtained ? 

Doctor Bolter asked himself this question a dozen times over, but no 
answer came. He asked the question as he stood there up to his knees 
in water, examining his pannikins full of sand and gravel, which he took 
from the bottom of the little river, where it now displayed all the 
characteristics of a mountain stream. 

He tried several pannikins full, scooping up the sand and gravel from 
likely places, and after picking out the larger stones, washing care- 
fully till nothing remained after the water had been drained off but 
pure sand. 

This he would examine in the full light of the sun, seeking in vain 
for little water-worn nuggets or specks and scales of gold ; but for some 
time his efforts were unsuccessful ; and they went on higher and higher 
the shallo-wness and the difficulties of the journey increasing at every 
stride, till trying at a spot where the rapid stream swirled round the 
end of a great mass of stone, the doctor wushed a pannikin of sand, and 
then uttered a grunt of satisfaction, for there at the bottom, glittering 
in the sunshine, were dozens of tiny specks of gold mingled with the 
grit. 

“ Plenty like that, master, the farther up the stream we go,” said 
the chief boatman. “ It comes out of the mountains where the wicked 
spirits live.” 

“ Indeed,” said the doctor, sarcastically ; “ then -we must go up and see 
the wicked spirits. Do you think they will be at home ? ” 

“It is very dreadful, master, and we should all be killed! They 
send down little specks of gold like that in the water; but if we went 
up to try and get the great pieces stuck in the mountain side, they 
wmuld smite us, and our people would see us no more.” 

“ Well, wm will risk that,” said the doctor. “ Go on.” 

The Malays sighed, and looked piteously at the doctor, whom they 
considered as dangerous as a spirit if not obeyed ; for they knew he had 

19 


288 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


strange medicines, and a lightning apparatus that sent sparks through 
them, and made their hands hold tightly by a couple of handles. Yes, 
he was a wonderful and dangerous man that doctor, whom nothing 
seemed to hurt, and they felt compelled to obey him. 

They plied the paddles, then sending the sampan through the spark- 
ling water, till a few minutes after, when there was a loud grating 
noise, for they were aground. 

The Malays sprang out and wading and lifting the boat, they dragged 
it on into deeper water, jumped in and paddled on again, but only to 
get once more aground ; and this occurred for a few times, after which 
the paddles had to be set aside, and the men waded and dragged the 
boat to a standstill. 

The doctor had found gold in small quantities, and'that proved gold 
to be there, but nothing more, and he rubbed his ear with a vezatious 
movement. 

He knew that there was gold in the little streams that came down 
from the mountains, and probably there was a great deal more there in 
the mass. But that did not prove this to have been the place visited by 
Solomon’s ships, and he was as far off the goal as ever. 

“ One thing is very evident,” muttered the doctor, ill-humouredly, 
as he made a vicious blow at and missed a teasing fly, “ Solomon’s ships 
never came up this river, and we can get no farther without walking. 
Here, drag the boat under the shelter of that rock, and let’s have a 
feed and a rest. The sun is unbearable ! ” 

The men eagerly drew the boat over the stones, amidst which the 
pellucid water trickled and sparkled, placed it well in the shadow of a 
towering mass of rock, and then, in the comparative coolness, a good 
meal was made, after which first one and then the other dropped off to 
sleep. 

The sun was setting when the doctor awoke from a dream of being 
somewhere undergoing a punishment for his sins by being buzzed at by 
flies that he could not knock off his face and ears. 

He felt annoyed on seeing how the day was spent ; but a little con- 
sideration told him that the men were almost knocked up by their 
exertions, and that they would be the better for the rest. 

“Well,” said the doctor, “ how are we to manage now? Will the 
stream grow deeper higher up ? ” 

“ No, master,” replied the Malay ; “ the boat can go no farther. We 
must walk.” 

“Humph ! and carry the provisions ? ” said the doctor. 

“ Yes, if the master wishes to go up to the mountains.” 

“ Why, you are afraid, Ismael ! ” said the doctor. I 

“ Yes, master, we are both afraid ; but if he says we must go, his 
servants will follow him right up where the spirits dwell. Look — see,” 
he whispered. “ There is one waving its hands to us to tempt us. 
Don’t — no, don’t look, master, or you may die.” 

The second Malay threw himself flat in the bottom of the boat, and 
covered his face with his hands. 

“ Well, I’ve seen worse things than that,” said the doctor, grimly, 
“ Why, it’s a woman ; and she’s coming this way.” 


DB. BOLTEB’S SPIRIT. 


289 


“ The spirits come in all shapes from the mountains to tempt people,” 
said the trembling Malay. “ Now, they are tigers, now theyare croco- 
diles, and sometimes women and men.” 

“ Ah, the women are the worst kind of spirits,” said the doctor — 
“especially,” he added to himself, “if they are middle-aged and 
jealous of their husbands. Here, get up, sir; don’t lie there: you’re 
crushing my specimens. That’s only a Malay woman.” 

The figure was struggling slowly along, the rugged, rock-strewn bank 
of the stream making her passage very arduous, for the little river 
was running now in the bottom of a ravine like a huge rift in the 
mountain side. The rocks tOAvered up at a swift angle, and a traveller 
would have found the best road to be decidedly in the bed of the 
stream. 

The woman ashore, however, evidently preferred the dry land, and 
kept on -picking her way toilsomely from rock to rock, now descending 
into some rift, and anon climbing forth once more into sight, and more 
than once she seemed to fall. 

She was quite a couple of hundi’ed yards away still, and the doctor 
watched her approach with growing interest, feeling no little compas- 
sion for her, as he saw that she was evidently footsore, and struggled 
towards them in a -weary, halting manner, that grew pitiable as she 
advanced. 

At last the piled-up rocks grew evidently so difficult that the 
woman toiled slowly down to the bed of the stream, where the doctor 
saw her stoop and scoop \ip the sweet, cool -water with her hand, evi- 
dently to drink with avidity. After this she made an effort to continue 
her course, but she seemed to totter and sink down upon a stone at 
the side of the stream, waving her broAvn hand once more as if for 
help. 

“ Poor thing ! ” said the doctor, stepping out of the boat into the 
shallow water, but only to be seized by the two Malays. 

“ No, no, master,” they cried together ; “ you must not go. It is a 
spirit, and it will kill you ! ” 

“ Let go, you silly, superstitious fellows ! ” cried the doctor, wrench- 
ing himself free, “ Women are very dangerous creatures, but I think 
I shall get back safe.” 

Then, to the horror of his two men, he waded up the stream to 
where the native woman sat back, half reclining against the rock, 
with her feet washed by the running water. 

As it is well known,-when once the sun is below the horizon, the twi- 
light is extremely short in the tropics ; and the fast-coming darkness 
wms deepened by the depth of the rocky ravine, so that as the doctor 
waded carefully on to avoid a nasty fall, the figure of the woman in 
her gay plaid sarong was beginning to look filmy and indistinct enough 
to make anyone of superstitious tendencies doubtful of the reality of 
that upon which he gazed. 

But the doctor was made of too stern stuff to be troubled in this 
way, even after the promptings of his companions ; and wading on, 
with the water feeling deliciously cool as it plashed musically about 
his feet, he noted that the brown face looked fixed and strange, the lips 


290 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


parted, revealing the black, filed teeth, and such an air of exhaustion 
displayed in the eyes that he hurried his steps. 

“What is the matter?” he said, in the Malay tongue; but the 
woman did not reply, only raised one hand feebly and let it drop. 

Black, brown, or white, it was the same to Dr. Bolter. Here was a 
patient asking help in her mute way; and taking her hand, he quickly 
felt her pulse. 

“No fever. Exhaustion,” he muttered, softly, laying her farther 
back, so that after dipping some of the cold water in the cup of his 
spirit-flask, and adding a few drops of some essence, he could trickle 
it gently between the sufferer’s lips. 

She made an effort to swallow, and did so, uttering a low moan the 
next minute, follow'ed by a piteous sigh. 

“ Drink a little more,” he said, in the Malay tongue ; and she obeyed 
mechanically, as he held the silver cup to her lips. “ Poor girl,” he 
continued, to himself, “her feet are cut and bleeding, and she has 
hurt herself with falling Here ! hoi ! Ismael ! Ali ! ” 

The rocks echoed his cry, and the tw'o men approached tremblingly. 

“ Come along, you stupid fellows ! ” he cried. “It is nothing to be 
afraid of;” and after a few more angry admonitions the two boatmen 
came up and helped* to carry the insensible girl down to the boat, 
W'hen, a snug place close by in the rocks having been picked out, the 
sufferer was placed upon a roughly-prepared couch formed of the 
doctor’s overcoat and his waterproof sheet ;, then a macintosh was laid 
over her, and she seemed to fall off into a heavy sleep. 

“That keeps us here for the night,” said the doctor; and being 
hungry, a fire was lit, and a capital little dinner of preserved game 
and fish prepared, of -which all partook, and then made preparations 
for passing the night. 


CHAPTER LXXII. 

MEDICAL AID. 

Doctor Bolter visited his patient two or three times, waking up with 
the greatest of regularity every two hours for the purpose, and 
administering a few drops of a cordial that he always carried wherever 
he went, it having wonderful qualities of its oiv'n, so the doctor said, 
and being competent to cure almost every disease, but smelling very 
strongly of brandy. 

His patient slept heavily, and she was still sleeping as the doctor’s 
coffee was ready just before sunrise. 

“ Humph ! ” ho muttered; “ it’s a precious good job my wife isn’t 
here, or she’d be as cross as two sticks, for the poor thing is a won- 
derfully handsome girl in spite of her black, filed teeth, and dark skin. 
Poor lassie ! how she has scratched herself. Why, her feet are cut and 
swollen and full of thorns. I’ll bet ten pounds to twopence she’s a 
runaway slave.” 


MEDICAL AID. 


291 


There was no one to take the bet, and the doctor went on : 

“ Poor lass ! she has put me in a fix. I can’t take her back with me, 
because nothing upsets Harley more than having to deal with the 
domestic institutions of the Malays ; and if they get under the pro- 
lection of the British flag a slave is a slave no longer. Then, too, 
there is Mrs Bolter. Bless that woman ! what a pity it is that she 
is of such a jealous disposition. 

“Tut, tut, tut! Hang the girl! why didn’t she run to someone 
else ? It’s a pity she doesn’t wake though, for a cup of coffee would do 
her good. 

“ Humph ! Yes, she’s a very handsome girl,” muttered the doctor, 
thoughtfully. “ What a pity it is that they can’t leave their pretty 

white teeth alone, instead of disfiguring them like that, and Bless 

me — how strange ! Where have I seen this girl before ? ” 

He stood gazing down at her very thoughtfully, but his memory did 
not serve him. 

“ It must have been at the Inche Maida’s, and that makes it worse, 

for we don’t want to offend her Ah, that’s right,” he said aloud in 

Mala3mu. “ How do you feel ? ” 

For answer the girl, who had just opened a pair of large lustrous 
eyes, gazed at the doctor at first in a frightened w\ay, and then caught 
his hand in hers, kissed it passionately, and held it to her breast. 

“ Oh, come, I say, my dear, this W'on’t do!” cried the doctor. 
“ What the dickens do jmu think Mrs. Bolter w'ould say if she saw 
it ? There’d be the prettiest row under the sun. Now then, be 
calm, and lie still. You shall have a cup of coffee, and then I’ll 
extract some of the thorns from your feet, or jmu’ll be regularly' 
crippled.” 

There wms a fresh burst of sobbing here, the girl striving to speak, 
blit her sobs choked her utterance. 

“ There, there, there,” said the doctor, kindly, “ don’t cry, my poor 
child ; you are safe now, and I’ll take you back to the station in spite 
of Harley and hlrs. Bolter herself. Hang the slave customs and all 
who practise them, I say I Now, my dear,” he added, in Malayan, 
“ loose my hand, and I wall get you some coffee.” 

He tried to withdraw' his hand, but the girl clung to it the more 
tightly. 

“ No, no. Doctor,” she cried ; “ don’t leave me, pray ! ’* 

“ What ? The deuce I ” exclaimed the little man, starting. “ How 
the dickens did you know I was a doctor ? I say ; I know your voice ; 
W'ho ” 

“Don’t you know me again, doctor? ” she cried, passionately, and 
cutting short his speech. 

“Know you? AVhat — why? — It is? No. Yes : Helen Perowne ! ” 

The poor girl burst into a frantic hysterical fit of crying. 

“ Why, my poor darling ! my dear child ! my poor little woman ! ” 
cried the doctor, raising her head to his breast, and holding her tliero, 
kissing her again and again as the tears ran down his ruddy face. “ My 
poor little bairnie ! This is dreadful. Tliere, there, there, my dear, 
you are quite safe now',” he continued, petting her and caressing her 


20'2 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


as. a father ■would a favourite child. “But there; -what a milksop I 
am ; crying like a great girl, I declare, -when I ought to sliout hooray } 
to think I have found you safe, if not quite sound. Why, my dear 
child, Perowne ■will hug me for this. Poor old boy, he has been half 
frantic.” 

“ But, Doctor,” she sobbed, “ they will catch me again, and drag me 
back to that dreadful place. Look here,” she cried, with a mingling of 
pitiful appeal and angry indignation, and she held out her scratched 
and torn brown hands, and then turned her face and showed her teeth 
to him. “ I have been cruelly used. They made me look like one of 
his wretched wives,-so that I should not be known.” 

“ But who — who did all this ? ” 

“ Murad, and I have been kept a prisoner here at a dreadful place, 
deep in the jungle, where I saw no one but his wretched creatures. 
Oh, Doctor, Doctor, kill me, or I shall go mad ! ” 

“ Kill you ? of course I won’t, my dear. The dog ! the scoundrel ! 
the smooth-faced hypocrite ! I’ll blow his brains out ! I’ll skin him 
and make a specimen of him to take him back to England and exhibit 
him as a demon. Hang him ! I don’t know what I won’t do ! ” cried 
the doctor, stamping with passion. “ Here, you two,” he cried, “ don’t 
stand staring like tlaat, but bring the young lady some coffee.” 

The two Malay boatmen, who had been terribly puzzled at their 
master’s behaviour Avith one they took to be an escaped slave, obeyed 
his orders at once, looking very peculiar the while. 

“ Don’t you see who it is, you scoundrels? ” cried the doctor, storm- 
ing. “ What are you thinking about ? ” 

“ Nothing, master,” said the elder boatman, submissively, for what 
so great a man as the doctor — one who could bring people back to life, 
as he had the reputation of having done before now — chose to do must 
be good and right. 

“That’s better,” exclaimed the doctor, energetically. “Now some 
biscuits. Come, my dear, try and eat and drink. I wish to goodness 
ray little woman were hero ! Come, eat ; it will give you strength.” 

Helen made a lame effort or two, but the food seemed to choke her. 

“ And I’d come out to find Solomon’s gold,” muttered the doctor. 
“ Solomon’s Ophir; I seem instead to have found Solomon’s wives, or 
rather one of them. Bless my heart ! bless my soul ! Well, really I 
never did ! ” 

He looked, at Helen wonderingly, and then ran mentally OA'er the 
trouble at the station as he longed to question his “new specimen,” as 
he called her, but felt some delicacy in speaking. 

“ Come, come,” he said at last, “ you do not eat.” 

“ Oh, no, no, doctor !.” she cried, in hysterical tones. “ I cannot eat ; 
what shall I do ? ” 

“ One moment,” said the doctor ; “ tell me, do I apprehend rightly, 
that you have escaped from that scoundrel ? ” 

“ Yes,” she whispered, hoarsely ; and she shuddered as she spoke. 
“ He came yesterday — no, it must have been days ago. I don’t knoAv : 
my head is troubled. He came, and I said I Avould escape and die in 
the jungle if I could not get to the station.” 


MEDICAL AID. 


293 


“Yes, yes,” said the doctor, feeling her pulse, for she seemed to 
grow more composed. 

“And I did escape : one of the Eajah’s -u^omen helped me, and "vre 
fled together through the jungle, toiling on amongst thorns and canes, 
and always ready to drop, till we sank doAvn wearily to sleep.” 

“ Yes, my poor child,” said the doctor ; “ but where is your com- 
panion ? ” 

“ I — I don’t know,” said Helen, in a strange, dazed way. “ She must 
be somewhere. I went to sleep, and she was with me, and I awoke and 
she was gone. But, Doctor, dear Doctor Bolter, I am not what I w'as. 
Pray do not let me fall into that wretch’s hands again ! ” 

“ Never fear,” excl.aimed the doctor, to give her confidence, and ho 
assumed a matter-of-fact, confident air as he spoke. “ Look here, my 
dear child, eat and drink to gain strength, and I will then take you 
back in my boat. Don’t be alarmed. You will be quite safe.” 

Helen made an effort to partake of the coffee, and as the doctor 
drank his own, it suddenly struck him that he used to have a great 
dislike to Helen Perowne, while now he had been treating her with the 
most affectionate solicitude. 

“And quite right too,” ho muttered. “Her position enlists sym- 
pathy. Why, I should be a brute if I did not beliave kindly and 
well.” 

The difficulties of his position became more apparent to him as he 
thought the matter over. 

Murad had carried off Helen no doubt in accordance with a deeply- 
laid scheme ; and knowing what his position Avould be if the latter 
were discovered, of course he would spare no pains to recapture his 
prisoner. 

“Ho knows it’s death, and a complete finish of his Rajahship,” 
muttered the doctor; “and sooner than be found out the reptile would 
shoot me down like a dog — if I don’t get the chance to shoot him first ; 
and hang me if I don’t feel just now as if I could send a charge of shot 
through him with the greatest pleasure in life ! ” 

He felt that if the followers of Murad were to find out the direction 
taken by the fugitive they would soon be on her track, and he would 
be almost helpless — one against a strongly-manned boat, whoso crew 
would know their lives depended upon the success of their efforts. 

Under these circumstances he determined to draw the boat well up 
among the rocks, apd then to lie in concealment until the evening, when 
they might float dowm under cover of the darkness. 

But no sooner had he determined upon this than the thought of the 
difficulties of the navigation came uppermost in his mind. It was hard 
enough to get safely up the little river by daylight. In the darkness 
he was compelled to own that it would be impossible. 

“ I must run all risks,” he said ; “ thei'e is nothing else for it. We 
must get down to the mouth of the river and out into the main stream 
as soon as possible,” and having fully made up his mind what he would 
do, he turned to Helen Perowne. 

“ I am going to start at once,” he said ; “ but before we set off— I 
ga}’’ this so as to help me, perhaps, in our effort to get away ” 


294 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Effort to get away ? ” she said, piteously. 

“No, no ; I don’t quite mean that,” he said ; “ but before we set off 
would you not like to make yourself look a little more like an English 
lady ? ” 

She looked up at him with an imploring look, and the tears began to 
trickle down her cheeks. 

“Only too gladly, doctor; but you do not understand. They 
managed their cruel task only too well ! Do you not see ? — this is a 
stain, and it cannot be removed ! ” 

The doctor frowned as he thought of his store of drugs and chemi- 
cals at home in his little palm-thatched cottage, where he wished they 
were themselves ; and then he wondered whether there was anything 
amongst them that would remove the brown tint from his companion’s 
face. 

She rose as he held out his hand, but trembled so much, and seemed 
so agitated, that w^hen he led her to the boat she would have tottered 
and fallen had not the doctor caught her in his arms, and lifted her in ; 
while directly after the two stout Malays thrust the boat over the 
shallow sands and gravel till deeper -water was reached, the current 
helping them in their task, which was a long and arduous one, for 
there were long stretches of shallow and rapid, over -which the bottom 
of the sampan grated before the paddles could be used. 

And all this time the doctor noted that his companion’s wild eyes 
were constantly searching the shore for danger, such as he was fain to 
confess might be encountered at any moment, and in view of which he 
carefully charged his revolver, and altered the cartridges in both barrels 
of his gun. 

At last, though, the boatmen were able to give up wading, and seizing 
their paddles, they leaped into the boat, making it glide down the 
stream, whose course here was very swift. 

The doctor talked to his companion, but she was very silent, and 
they were soon both of them occupied in watching the shores, the 
doctor growing more uneasy moment by moment; while Helen, in her 
ignorance, felt that every paddle-stroke took her farther and farther 
from pursuit — made her safer from being recaptured by him who 
caused a shudder — when literally she was now every hour being taken 
nearer to the house that had been her prison all through those -weaiy days. 

As the time -wore on the doctor asked her a few questions about her 
adventures, but he noted that she trembled so, and became so painfully 
agkated, that from sheer kindness he .soon refrained ; and leaving her 
to make what confidences she chose, he sat with his gun across his 
knee, watching the shore for enemies, and they journeyed on almost in 
silence. 

The Malay boatmen saw that there was danger. They had not re- 
cognized Helen at first ; but now that they knew her, they coupled the 
meeting in their own minds with the troubles at the station, and from 
time to time they cast uneasy glances at the doctors revolver as it lay 
upon the seat, and from that began watchfully to scan such portions of 
the shore as might be deemed dangerous from affording opportunities 
•for an ambush from which spears would come whizzing with unerring aim. 


PllEPAKINa FOR A START. 


295 


In the ardour of his pursuit after the favourite myth of his imagina- 
tion the doctor had not noticed the distance he had ascended this 
narrow, winding stream ; but now that ho was all anxiety to reach the 
great river, it seemed as if it would never end. 

The sun poured down his ardent rays, and but for the awning of 
boughs that the Malays had cut and spread over her head, the heat to 
the rescued girl would have been unbearable. Everything, however, 
that could alleviate her position was done, and more than once she gave 
the doctor a grateful look, as in a weary, broken-spirited w'ay she 
faltered her thanks. 

“ Not much like the Helen Perowne of the past,” he muttered, as ho 
resumed his seat, after supplying his patient with water, and once 
more scanning the sides of the river for danger. 

There was nothing to be seen, though, for they had descended now to 
where rocks had given place to jungle, and the banks were one impene- 
trable mass of creeper-enlaced trees, the mcntony being hardly enlivened 
now by the sight of a bird. 

“ Look ! — look ! ” whispered Helen, suddenly. “ That is where they 
took me from the boat ! ” and she pointed to an opening in the jungle, 
the doctor recognizing the spot which he had noticed as they came up 
the river, and here w.as where the prahu had turned. 

“ There is a house inland from here, then ? ” said the doctor. 

Helen shuddered. 

“ Yes,” she said, faintly ; “ my prison. I cannot bear to talk about 
it now.” 

The doctor nodded ; and feeling that this was the critical part of the 
journey, he bade the Malays eat and drink as they paddled on, so as to 
gain strength for any energetic push they might have t& make. For 
his own part he was decided enough as to the course he would pursue, 
meaning to trust to flight if possible, but if pursued he vowed to him- 
self that he would fire upon his pursuers. 

“ And I am an Englishman ! ” ho said to himself, proudly. They 
dare not fire upon me ! 

“Double pay if you get us safely back to the station,” ho said, “ and 
in quicker time.” 

The boatmen nodded and smiled, toiled harder with their paddles, 
and they ■were half-way back to the great river at least, when plainly 
heard upon the still afbrnoon air, came the loud beat of the many oars 
of a great prahu. 


CHAPTER LXXIII. 

PREPARING FOR A START. 

“Now look hero, boy,” said Chumbley. “I grant the possibility of 
the Incho Maida having assisted in carrying off Helen, but we do not 
know that she did. What wo do know is ” 


296 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ That she confessed ” 

“ Not to helping, or anything of the kind. She told us that she was 
another man’s wife by now.” 

“ Well, that shows that she was cognizant of the matter ; and I say 
that we ought to make a clean breast of the affair.” 

“ Well, I’m such a pusillanimous coward, that I can’t screw myself 
up to doing anything of the kind. One can’t help feeling foolish over 
the matter. Hang it all, no, keep it quiet ! We are in an out-of-the- 
way place certainly ; but this is an awfully small marble of a world, 
and if we tell all our story, it would get into the Straits Times, and 
from that into the Calcutta papers ; and once there, the tit-bit of two 
officers being carried off by a wicked Eastern princess will soon run over 
to England, and go the round of the press. Why, hang it, man, we had 
better retire from the service ! ” 

Hilton stood leaning half out of the -window of their quarters listen- 
ing to his friend. 

“It would be awkward,” he said. 

“ Awkward’s nothing to it, my dear boy. And besides, you know w^hat 
comes about if we make all known. Harley will consider that he is in 
duty bound to arrest the Inche Maida, or something of the kind, and 
then look at the consequences ! ” 

“But the woman ought to be punished.” 

“ Yes, of course ; but the punishment is coming. You see by her act 
she has shut herself out from all connection with the station, and I 
daresay if the truth is knowm she has collected her valuables and fled.” 

“I hope she has,” replied Hilton, “for if steps are taken to arrest 
her, I should be, I confess, sorry for her to be caught.” 

“Let it slide then,” cried Chumbley; “we can’t w'ar against a 
woman. Come, you’ll oblige me, old fellow, greatly, by giving way.” 

“ What do you want me to do, then ? ” 

“ A little ill that good may come : keep to our story of having been 
seized and not knowing w'hore we were taken.” 

Hilton nodded and looked thoughtful. 

“ You give way then ? ” 

“Yes, I give way.” 

“ Hilton, old fellow, I’m much obliged, I know we shall have, perhaps, 
to do a little bit of invention, but it is invention to save a woman, and 
there is a lot of truth in it. Then, too, see how it saves us.” 

“ Still, I can’t help thinking that, if she had anything to do with 
carrying off Helen Perowne, she ought to be punished ; and mind this, 
though I care nothing for Helen now, if it proves afterw'ards that she 
helped in that cruel affair. I’ll have no mercy upon her.” 

“ She had nothing to do with it, take my word,” said Chumbley, who 
had grown so excited that he forgot to drawl. ‘ ‘ Here’s the case, depend 
upon it. She got to know that Murad meant to carry off Helen, and 
she thought that she would do the same by you.” 

“ Wretched creature ! ” 

“ Say silly child,” said Chumbley. “ These people have half of them 
the cleverness and weak, petty ways of children combined.” 

“ Then you feel certain that Murad alone carried off Helen ? 


PKEPARING FOR A START. 


297 


“ I lay a hundred to one he has. liarley’s right. When do we 
start ? ” 

“ In an hour’s time. The scoundrel has not been seen by any of his 
people in Sindang, so they say.” 

“ Wo shall have some warm work up there in the jungle.” 

“No doubt of it; but we’ll rout the serpent out — Oh, here is 
Harley ! ” 

The Resident was coming up hastily from the landing-stage, followed 
by a couple of soldiers leading a Malay between them. 

“ A prisoner, eh?” said Chumbley. “Well, his evidence will 
have to bo taken with a pinch of salt. Now, Harley, what’s the 
news ? ” 

“ This fellow has come, saying that he bears an important message. I 
would not hear him till I had you two present.” 

They went out into the veranda, took seats, and the man salaamed, and 
was asked his business. 

He said that he had been charged wdth a message to the Resident by 
one of the Rajah’s women. It was to tell him that the lady Helen had 
been taken up the river to the Rajah’s shooting-house, and was kept 
there against her will. 

“ Are you sure of this? ” said the Resident, hoarsely. 

“ I have said,” replied the man, with dignity. 

“ Have you seen her there ? ” 

“ Once only, master. She is kept shut closely up.” 

“ And when did you get this message ? ” 

“ It is nearly thirty days ago, master.” 

“Then w'hy did you not bring it sooneb? ” 

“I came down the river by night in my little boat, master, and 
reached the town here ; but found that I could not get near the 
Resident.” 

“ Why not ? ” said Mr. Harley, .‘•harply. “ I am always to be 
seen.” 

“ You were watched, master ; and I was watched.’* 

“ Watched ! Who watched me ? ” 

“ Murad’s men. They were everywhere.” 

“Murad’s men? Watching?” 

“ Yes, master, it is true. They lay about in boats or idled, chewing 
their betel on the shore and landing-stage. They would seem to you 
like common people who had nothing to do, but they were all watching 
carefully the while. ” 

“And would they have stopped you ? ” 

“ Yes, master ; they did.” 

“ Then you have kept this message all the time in spite of this ? ” 

“ Yes, master.” 

“ Without trying to deliver it ? ” 

“ No ; I tried. I could not get to you or any I could trust unseen ; 
but I knew that you Englishmen are all friends, and that if I told one 
he would tell you, so I thought of the doctor.” 

“ And told him ? ” said the Resident. 

“ No : I could not ajpproach an Englishman at all. I waited my 


298 


OXE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


chance ; two clays had gone, and then, after much thinking, I made my 
plan.” 

“Yes, be quick,” said the Hesident, impatiently. 

“ I pretended to be hurt.” 

“ Yes; and went to the doctor,” said Hilton. “ Did you tell him ? ” 

“ If my masters will let me tell my story,” said the man, w'ith dignity, 
“ it will be best.” 

Mr. Harley made a sign to his companions to bo silent, and the man 
went on : 

“I looked about for a house where I fancied I should not be watched, 
and went to a lady, saying I was badly hurt, and asking that she would 
fetch the doctor to me.” 

“ Why did you not tell her your message ? ” 

“ She talked too much — I was afraid,” said the man, quietly. “But 
she took compassion on me and went to fetch the doctor. ‘ Now,’ I said, 

‘ my task is clone.’ But my enemies were too watchful, and soon after 
my messenger to the doctor had gone, six men entered the house ; I 
was seized, gagged, and carried off to a boat, and rowed away. They 
questioned me, but I was dumb ; and then they kept me prisoner till 
two days back, when I escaped and came down here.” 

“ Then why were you not kept back from approaching me this time ? ” 
said the Eesident, sternly. 

“ I know not, master, only that those who watched are gone. The 
place was full of Murad’s men before. Now they are not.” 

“He is right,” said Hilton. “Murad has taken the alarm. He 
knows by his spies that the game is up.” 

“ Could you take us to this place ? ” said the Hesident. 

“ I coulci ; but I wish to live,” said the Malay. “ I have a wife.” 

“ You mean that Mui'ad’s people would slay you if you led us there ? ” 

The Malay boAved. 

“ You may trust to the English power,” said the Hesident, sternly. 
“ If what you s iy be correct, Muracl’s reign is at an end, and you may 
depend upon us for protection. Will you lead us to the place Avhere 
this lady is shut up ? ” 

“ If the English chief Avill promise me protection.” 

“You shall be protected,” said the Hesident, quietly ; “and you 
shall be well rewarded. ” 

The Malay bowed again. 

“What do you think?” said the Resident, turning to Hilton, and 
speaking in French, to make sure that the Malay did not understand. 

“I think the man is right, and I would take him for guide ; but all 
the same, we know what these people are : it may only be a treacherous, 
misleading plan.” 

“ AVe must be well on the alert as to that,” replied the Hesident. “ I 
think the man is honest.” 

“ So do I,” said Chumbley, “for there is no temptation for him to 
have been otherwise.” 

“ Stay with those tAvomen,” said the Resident, addressing the Malay ; 
“ we are going with an armed expedition directly, and you shall be 
our guide.” 


PREPARING FOR A START. 


209 


The man was led away, and the Resident watched him intently as 
ho went out. 

“ Yes, I think the Malay is honest,” he said, quickly. “Are you 
fellows ready ? ” 

“ Yes ; we only wait your orders,” replied Hilton. “lam fidgeting 
to he off.” 

“ There is much to bo done first. Let us go now and see Perowne. 
I promised to communicate with him before we left. Y''ou have not 
seen him yet ? ” 

“No.” 

They walked down to the landing-place, where the Resident’s large 
boat was being well manned, and ammunition and rations for three or 
four days were being stored. There a small beat was waiting, and they 
were paddled across, to walk up to Mr. Perowne’s, both Hilton and 
Chumbley starting, as they saluted the merchant, to see what a change 
his late troubles had wrought upon his personal appearance. 

He shook hands with the officers in a quiet, grave way, and then 
stood looking in a vacant manner out of the window and across the lawn 
towards the river. 

“ We must not start without Bolter,” said the Resident, sharply, as 
if the idea had just crossed his mind. “ Any news of him ? ” 

“ No,” said Hilton ; “ we have heard nothing ; but are you sure that 
he has not returned ? ” 

“ He would not have returned without reporting himself,” replied 
the Resident, who, like Mr. Perow'ne, seemed to have grown older and 
more hollow of cheek. 

“ I am quite ready to start,” said Mr. Perowne, in an absent manner. 
“They tell me, Mr. Hilton, you were seized that s:imo night, and 
carried up the river. Are you sure that my Helen w'as not taken to the 
same place ? ” 

“ I am certain, Mr. Perowne,” said Hilton, gravely. “ The best 
answer to that is the presence of Mr. Chumbley and myself. Wo 
should not have come a'vvay and left an English lady in such a situation.” 

The Resident cast a keen, inquiring look at Hilton, and Mr. Perowne 
went on feebly : 

“ No, no, of course not ; but I thought I’d ask, Mr. Hilton. I’vo 
had a deal of trouble lately ; and my head is very bad.” 

“ Let us go across to the doctor’s,” said Mr. Harley. “ There is the 
chance of his being back. I really feel that, urgent as our necessities 
are, we must not start without him.” 

“We ought to have him,” replied Hilton. “We are sure to have 
some wounded.” 

“And wounds are awful in this climate if not attended to at 
once ! ” 

“ Yes,” assented the Resident. “ Will you come with us, Perowne ?” 

“ No,” said that gentleman, dreamily. “ I shall stay until the ex- 
pedition starts.” 

Mr Perow’ne seated himself upon a low stool, and buried his face in 
his hands, looking so utterly prostrate, that the Resident crossed to his 
side, bent down over him and whispered : 


300 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ For Heaven^s salce, be hopeful I I am straining every nerve to get 
this expedition off ! ” 

“But you are so long — so long ! ” moaned the VTetched man. 

“ Do not you reproach me,” said Mr. Harley. “ Have some pity for 
my position. I am even now going beyond my tether in 'svhat I am 
doing ; and I hardly dare take a party of men up in this jungle without 
a doctor with us ! Perowne, on my honour, I am burning to go to 
Helen’s help ; but I am tied down by red tape at every turn. You 
don’t know what such a position as mine really is ! ” 

“ Gro and see if Bolter has come back,” said Mr. Perowne, coldly. 

“ Yes,” said the Resident, to himself, “ if not, we must go without 
him.” 

The Resident turned away, beckoning Hilton to follow ; and leaving 
Chumbley sitting with the stricken father, they went towards the 
doctor’s cottage. 


CHAPTER LXXIV. 

JEOPAUDY. 

Helen caught the sound of the oars at the same moment as the doctor, 
and ho heard her draw a spasmodic breath as she started up in her 
dread and seized his arm, clinging to it convulsively. 

The doctor rose, and shading his eyes, gazed down the stream, but 
there was no prahu as yet in sight ; and he then glanced to left and 
right for a hiding place beneath the overhanging trees. 

A glance, however, showed him that there was not shelter enough 
here to cover a boat of half the size ; and in despair as to what he should 
do, ho turned to the Malays, who evidently read his perplexity, and 
shook their heads. 

They might have turned the boat and tried to get beyond where they 
knew the prahu would stop and turn, but that would have taken hours, 
and they must have been either overtaken or seen long before they had 
reached the spot. 

“Nothing but impudence will do it,” thought the doctor, and ho 
turned sharply to Helen. “ Lie down in the boat, my dear, and trust 
to me,” he whispered. 

“Doctor,” she moaned, passionately, “kill me, but don’t let me fall 
again into that wretch’s hands ! ” 

“ Is this Helen Perowne ? ” thought the doctor, as with patient trust 
she submitted to him as he laid her back in the bottom of the boat, threw 
the great green branches overboard, and covered her loosely -with the 
waterproof sheet, upon which he tossed his macintosh ; and then quickly 
changing the cartridges once more, he coolly sat up, watched his oppor- 
tunity, after telling the Malays to paddle smoothly, and brought dow'n 
a handsome green parrot from a bough overhanging the river. 

The beat of the prahu’s oars ceased on the instant, and coolly telling 
the Malays to make for the fallen bird, the doctor retrieved it, and 


JEOPARDY. 


801 


threw it carelessly upon the waterproof sheet, full in view for anyone 
passing to see. 

“ Let the boat drift down,” he said to the Malays ; and then to Helen : 
“ Don’t be alarmed : I am shooting birds.” 

He had hardly reloaded before another opportunity presented itself, 
and he shot a brilliantly-plumaged trogon, which he was in the act of 
picking from the water where it had fallen as the stream bore them full 
in view of the same large prahu that had passed them when making 
his w'ay up the main river. 

The doctor took hardly any notice of the prahu, but carefully shook 
the -water from his specimen, and smoothed its plumage, giving just a 
casual glance at the long row-boat, whose swarthy crew were -w^atching 
his acts ; and then, as the stream s-wept them by, he reloaded, and sat 
with the butt of his gun upon his knee, apparently looking out for 
another specimen. 

All the same, though, he had an eye for the prahu, whose crew were 
evidently canvassing his presence there ; but he seemed to be so occupied 
with his old practice of collecting brightly-plumaged birds — a habit 
for which he was well known — that no one thought of stopping him, 
and a bend in the river soon separated them Horn the enemy. 

The doctor laid do-um his gun, and after satisfying himself by a 
glance that the trees completely shut out all view, ho raised the cover- 
ing from the half-suffocated girl, who lay pale and panting there. 

“The danger has passed,” he whispered ; then, turning to the boat- 
men : “Now,” he cried, “ row for your lives ! ” 

They needed no fui’ther incentive, but bent to their work, sending the 
sampan surging through the water ; and the stream being rapid here, 
they made good way, the prahu having, fortunately for them, tho- 
roughly loosened the tangled water-wee^ that otherwise would have 
hindered their flight. 

The doctor listened to the beat of the prahu’s oars, which seemed to 
grow mors distant. Then the noise stopped, and recommenced in a 
different way, the beat sounding short and choppy. 

“What does that mean?” he muttered, thoughtfully; but he 
smoothed his brow as he saw that Helen was watching him intently. 

Suddenly he started, for he read the meaning of the sounds, which 
did not grow more distant. 

“They are not satisfied,” he said to himself, “and are coming after 
us. The pmhu cannot turn ; the river is too narrow here, and they are 
backing water.” 

He tried to doubt his owm words ; but as they entered upon a long 
straight portion of the river, down which they glided rapidly, he gazed 
back, and just as they neared the end of the reach ho saw the prahu in 
full pursuit. 

“ Paddle hard,” he cried ; “ they must not overtake us. Quick ! get 
round out of sight : we shall get on better in the sharp windings, and 
leave her more behind.” 

He was not sure of this, but hoped it would be the case ; and he was 
in the act of hoping this when — hang ! — there was a sharp report from 
a lelah on board the prahu, and a pound ball came skipping along the 


302 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


surface of ti.j stream, splashed up the water a fe^7 yards away, and 
then crashed in amongst the dense jungle-growth to the left. 

“Paddle, my lads, paddle away!” shouted the doctor; and the 
men toiled on, every muscle seeming to stand out of their strong arms, 
and the veins starting in neck and brow as they obeyed his words, till 
the boat seemed as if it were skimming like a bird over the surface of 
the stream. 

“ That’s right ! Good ! good ! ” he cried, in the Malay tongue. “ I 
never saw boat worked so well before.” 

His words seemed to give the men fresh strength, and they forced 
the sampan onward with renewed force. The water rattled and 
surged beneath her bows, and so good was the speed they now made, 
that in another minute they would have been out of sight, when a 
second shot from the prahu’s gun came skipping along, and this time 
aimed so well, or so cleverly winged by fate, that it struck the flying 
boat, cutting a great piece out of her gunwale. 

“ Pooh! that’s nothing. Never mind the shot! ” cried the doctor, 
coolly. “ I’ll wager a new silk sarong, to be fought for by gamecocks, 
that they could not do that again. Dip your paddles deep, my lads ; 
paddle away, and we’ll soon leave them far enough behind.” 

The bend of the river that they had turned gave them some slight 
chance of escape, and the men worked better and with less display of 
nervous hesitation. Bank and trees shut them now from the sight of 
the marksmen on board the prahu, and there is less difficulty in toil- 
ing at the paddle when you knew that no one is taking careful aim at 
your back. 

The moment they were out of sight of the prahu’s crew the doctor 
stood up in the boat, one moment urging on the men, the next search- 
ing the shores for some satisfactory hiding-place — some inlet or open- 
ing among the trees into which the sampan might be thrust with some 
little chance of its escaping the keen eyes of their pursuers, who would 
be pretty well on the alert for such a trick as this. There were trees 
overhanging the stream in plenty, but as far as he could see, the foliage 
was not sufficiently dense to bo trusted at a time like this ; and feeling 
at last that their only chance of safety was by making for and reaching 
the main river, he kept on encouraging the men, and in the pauses 
speaking words of comfort to Helen Perowne. 

She lay back utterly prostrate, but turned her eyes to the doctor with 
an imploring gaze that he read easily enough, interpreting it to mean — 
“ Save me from these wretches, or shoot me sooner than I shall fall 
into their hands ! ” 

“ I mean to save you, my dear,” he said to himself ; but all the same, 
he examined the cartridges in his gun, and his fingers played with the 
trigger, as he listened intently to the sounds of pursuit. 

“ I’d give something for this to be the cutter of a frigate, well 
manned with jacks and with half a dozen of our red-coats in the stern 
sheets. I don’t think we should be showing them how fast we could 
run away at a time like this. But one must show them a little 
strategy sometimes.” 

He looked back, but they were still well out of sight of the prahu, 


BLIND AS A MOLE— IS SAID TO BE. 


SOS 


the heavy beat of whose oars seemed to come from close behind the 
trees, though it was still some distance away. 

He scanned this bank — the other bank — but now the trees seemed 
thinner, and the chances of hiding successfully to grow less ; and for a 
moment something like despair crept into the doctor’s heart. 

But he was too well used to emergencies to fail at critical moments ; 
and, bracing himself up, the momentary despairing feeling was gone. 

“ Is there no end to this wretched river ? ” he cried, half aloud ; and 
he gave his foot an impatient stamp, which started the men afresh just 
as they had slackened their efforts, and once more they went on toiling 
along the narrow, winding stream, the tortuous way seeming to grow 
more intricate minute by minute, and fortunately for them, as their 
little boat skimmed round the turns, while the prahu’s passage was 
ponderous and slow. 

But every now and then some straight piece of the river would give 
the enemy his chance, and the rowers forced the prahu along, so that 
she gained ground. 

There was no mistaking it, and the doctor’s fingers tightened upon 
his gun, as he saw how rapidly his pursuers were gaining ; w'hile his 
own men were becoming terribly jaded by their tremendous efforts, and 
moment by moment their strokes were losing force. 

AVorse still, as he gazed back, he could see that something was going 
on in the bows of the prahu, and he needed no telling w'hat it was — 
they were again loading and training their hea^7• gun ; and ^ if,” the 
doctor thought, “ they wing us now, our chances are gone ! ” 

It was not a pleasant thing to do, to stand there offering himself as 
it were for a target to the next shot ; but this did not occur to the 
doctor, who kept his ground, and the next moment there was a puff of 
white smoke from the prahu’s side. 


CHAPTER LXXV. 

BUXD AS A MOLE — IS SAID TO BE. 

“Pooa Perowne seems nearly heartbroken,” said the Resident, as they 
went down the path ; and then bitterly, the words slipping out, inci- 
dental upon one or two remarks of Hilton’s — “ He seems to suffer more 
than you.” 

“ I feel as much hurt at Miss Perowne’s abduction as does any man 
at the station,” said Hilton, hotly ; “ but if you mean, Mr. Harley, that 
I am not grieving like a suitor of this lady should, you are quite right.” 

“ Quite right ? ” said the Resident, quickly. 

“ I said quite right,” replied Hilton, sternly : “ every pretension on 
my part was at an end before the night of that unfortunate party.” 

“ I beg your pardon, Hilton,” cried the Resident, warmly. “ I am 
not myself. I ought not to have spoken in so contemptibly mean a 
way. Bear with me ; for what with my public duties, and the suspense 
and agony of this affair, my feelings have at times been maddening.” 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


SOI 


“ Bear ■with 3'ou, yes ! ” said Hilton, ■warmly. “ Harley, I sympathize 
■with you. I do indeed, and believe me, I will bo your right hand in 
this matter; but wo have had so little chance of talking together. Tell 
me what has been done.” 

“ Comparatively nothing,” replied the Resident. “ I have been 
helpless. I have had my suspicions ; but, situated as I was, I could not 
act upon suspicion only; and when, to satisfy myself, I have tried 
diplomatic— as we call mean, but really underhanded — means by spies 
to find out if there was anything wrong, every attempt has failed.” 

“ You have sent out people to search then ? ” 

“ Scores ! ” cried the Resident ; “ but in the majority of cases I feel 
certain that I have only been paying Murad’s creatures ; and w'hen I have 
not, but obtained people from down the river, the cunning Malays 
have blinded them to the facts.” 

“ I see.” 

“ Then Murad himself, he has been indefatigable with his help.” 

“ To throw you off the scent,” said Hilton. 

“Exactly. Then there was the finding of the stove-in boat, and 
portions of the dresses of those who apparently occupied her — every 
thing pointing to some terrible accident. What would the authorities 
have said had I, on the barest suspicion, seized upon Murad and charged 
him with this crime ? A public official cannot do that which a private 
individual might attempt.” 

Hilton walked on by liis side, very moody and thoughtful. 

“I have felt suspicious of this cunning villain all along; and I 
do not feel quite satisfied that the Inche Maida has not been playing 
into his hands. But what could I do — on suspicion merely ! Even now, 
had he not absented himself from Sindang, we could hardly venture 
upon this expedition. In spite of what we have heard, he may be 
innocent.” 

“ My head upon it, he is guilty ! ” cried Hilton, fiercely : “ and if we 
do bring him to book ” 

The Resident looked at his companion curiously, for the young officer 
ceased speaking, and he saw that there was a fixed, strange look in his 
eye, and that his lips were drawn slightly from his teeth. 

“ If we do bring him to book,” said the Resident, quietly, “ he shall 
suffer for it.” 

“ Suffer ! ” cried Hilton, excitedly. “ Look here, Harley, I vow to 
you now that if Helen Perowne offered me her hand to-morrow, and 
asked me to marry her, I should refuse ; but all the same. I’d strike 
down the man who offered her the slightest insult ; and as for this 
Murad, if we run him to earth, and ho is guilty, I’ll shoot him like a 
dog.” 

“Leave that revolver alone,” said the Resident, quietly, as uncon- 
sciously Hilton took the weapon from its pouch at his belt and began 
turning the chambers round and round. 

The young officer hastily thrust the weapon back and tightened his 
belt. By that time they had reached the doctor’s house, where, upon 
entering, they found little Mrs. Bolter looking flushed and annoyecl, 
and opposite to her Mrs. Barlow, the picture of woe. 


BLIND AS A MOLE— 13 SAID TO BE. 


805 


“ Has he come back ? ” said the Resident, hastily, after the customary 
salutations. 

“ No, he has not come back,” said Mrs. Bolter, rather excitedly. 

“ Alas ! no, he has not returned,” said Mrs. Barlow, in tragic tones. 
“ I fear we shall never see him more.” 

“ Are you speaking of Dr. Bolter, madam ? ” said the Resident, won- 
deringly. 

“ Of the doctor, sir ? No ! ” cried Mrs. Barlow, indignantly, “ but of 
the chaplain.” 

“ Oh ! ” said the Resident, and a feeling of compunction entered his 
breast to think how small a part Mr. Rosebury had seemed to play in 
this life-drama, and how little he had been missed. 

“ Captain Hilton,” said little Mrs. Bolter, taking the young officer 
aside to the window, while her visitor was talking to Mr. Harley, “ it’s 
a shame to trouble you with my affairs directly you have come out of 
trouble yourself, and just as you are very busy, but if someone does not 
take that woman away I shall go mad 1 ” 

“ Go mad, Mrs. Bolter ? ” 

“Yes; go mad — I can’t help it. I’m worried enough about the 
disappearance of my poor brother Arthur ; then I am forsaken in the 
most cruel way by my husband ; and as if that was not enough, and 
just when I am imagining him to be suffering from fever, or crocodiles, 
or Malay people, or being drowned, that dreadful woman comes and 
torments me almost to death.” 

“ What, Mrs. Barlow ? AVell, but surely, if you give her a hint — ” 

“ Give her a hint. Captain Hilton ! I’ve asked her to go over and 
over again ; I’ve ordered her to go — but it’s of no use. She comes back 
and cries all over me in the most dreadful way.” 

“ But why ? — what about ? ” 

“ She has got a preposterous notion in her head that she is in love 
with my poor brother, and that he was very much attached to her 
because he called upon her once or twice. It’s really dreadful, for I 
don’t believe my brother ever gave her a thought.” 

“You must reason with her, Mrs. Bolter,” said Hilton, who could 
not help feeling amused. 

“ It is of no use : I’ve tried, and all I get for my pains is the declara- 
tion that she must give me the love that she meant for my brother. 
She says she shall make her will and leave all to me, for she shall die 
soon ; and the way in which she goes on is horrible.” 

“Well, it must be a nuisance where you don’t care for a person,” 
said Hilton. 

“ Nuisance : it’s unbearable ! And now I’m talking to you about it, 
and very absurd you must think me ; but if I didn’t relieve my mind 
to somebody I’m sure I should go mad. But won’t you come into the 
drawdng-room ? ” ^ 

“ Certainly,” said Hilton. 

“I came out here to speak to her,” continued little Mrs. Bolter; 
“ because if she gets into my little drawing-room, she takes a seat, and 
I can never get her out again. Perhaps,” she whispered, “ she’ll go as 
soon as she has said all she wants to Mr. Harley.” 


306 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Hilton followed the little troubled body into the drawing-room, and 
then started and turned hot as he saw Gray Stuart rise to her feet, and 
stand there, looking deadly pale. 

“ Miss Stuart ! ” he exclaimed. 

She made an effort to control herself, but her strength was not 
superhuman ; and coming forward, she took Hilton’s extended hand, 
looked at him with her lips quivering, and then burst into a loud fit of 
sobbing. 

“ We thought you dead ! ” she said, in an excited manner. “Pray 
forgive me. It is so weak. But Helen ? ” 

“ We have great hopes of rescuing her,” said Hilton, whose heart 
was beating fast, as he asked himself what this emotion really meant. 
Then he cooled dcwn and felt hurt, for ho told himself that her last 
wmrds explained it. Helen Perowne and she had been schoolfellows, 
and he had disappeared at the same time ; now he had returned, but 
without Helen, and his appearance was a shock to her. 

“There, there, there, my dear child,” said Mrs. Bolter, w'ho felt 
scandalized at this weakness on the part of her favourite ; “ don’t cry — 
pray don’t cry. You’re very glad to see Captain Hilton back of course, 
but you must save a few tears for poor Mr. Chumbley as well. When 
is he coming to see us. Captain Hilton ? ” 

“ Not on this side of our expedition,” said the young officer, quietly. 
“ We start as soon as possible, and have hopes of bringing back Miss 
Perowne and your brother.” 

“ Then you do think he was taken as well, Captain Hilton ? ” cried 
Mrs. Bolter, eagerly. 

“ I feel sure he was now,” replied Hilton. “ He was no doubt in 
attendance upon Miss Perowne, and they were taken together.” 

“ Then if he was,” said little Mrs. Bolter, brightening, “ I am very 
glad, for Helen Perowne’s sake, for some things,” she added, giving her 
head a sharp shake. 

This short colloquy gave Gray Stuart an opportunity of recovering 
herself ; and she blessed the brisk, talkative little woman for drawing 
attention from her, so that when next she spoke she w^as able to com- 
mand herself thoroughly, and continue the conversation in her ordinary 
calm, self-possessed way. 

“I began to despair at one time of getting back to the station,” 
Hilton said, lightly; “and I was very tired of being a prisoner, I 
assure you.” 

He looked intently at Gray as he spoke, and the pleasant warmth of 
her manner as she replied touched and pleased him, but he was fain to 
confess that it was only the lively interest that any girl in her position 
would take in one who had been lost in the same way as he, and W'as 
now found. 

“ I am very glad to see you back, Mr. Hilton,” she said. “ We were 
in great trouble about you. But when shall we see Mr. Chumbley ? ” 

“ Soon, I hope,” ho replied, quietly, and there was a curious sinking 
feeling at his heart as she spoke. 

“ She would have shown just as much emotion at seeing him for the 
fii'st time,” he thought. “What a sweet, innocent, gracious little 


BLIND AS A MOLE— IS SAID TO BE, 


307 


■woman it is, and how much happier I might have been, if I had made 
her the object of my pursuit.” 

‘‘ Tell mo about Mr. Chumbley,” said Gray, taking up her work ; 
“ did he suffer much when you were prisoners ? ” 

“ Suffer ? No ! ” said Hilton, smiling. “ If he did, ho never showed 
it. He’s a splendid fellow, and takes things so coolly,” 

“ he is indeed ! ” cried Gray. “ I do like Mr. Chumbley.” 

Hilton’s heart sank a little loAver, and there avhs almost a ring of 
sadness in his voice as he went on : 

“He kept my spirits up Avonderfully by his nonchalant, easy way. 
He was a capital companion, and neAmr once shoAved that he AA'as Ioaa- 
spirited or suffered in the least.” 

“ He is very strong and brave, is he not ? ” said Gray. 

“ AVhy, the little body loves him,” thought Hilton; “and I had 

hoped Bah ! let me be a man, and not a manger-loving cur. What 

right have I to think she could have cared for me ? ” 

“ Strong and brave ! ” he said aloud. “ AVhy, Chumbley professes to 
be a coward ” 

“ A coward ! Oh, no ! ” cried Gray, flushing. “ I cannot be- 
lieve ” 

“ While he is as brave as a lion,” said Hilton. 

“That ho is, lam sure,” cried Gray, warmly; and her cheeks 
flushed, and her eyes sparkled as she spoke. 

“ Chum, old fellow,” said Hilton, sadly to himself, “ I used to laugh 
at you because you were bested by me, as I thought ; but now I envy 
you your luck. Well, never mind, I can bear it, I daresay, and you 
deserve it all. I think I shall go back and marry the Inche Mai da 
after all.” 

“ Why, hoAV serious you have turned. Captain Hilton,” said Mrs. 
Bolter. 

“ Captain Hilton is going aAvay directly” on what ma^’- prove -a 
dangerous expedition.” 

“ Of course ; I had forgotten,” said Mrs. Bolter. “ Dear me, that 
woman is there still, talking to Mr. Harley. Will she never go ? ” 

“She will give Chumbley a warmer welcome than she gave me,” 
said Hilton to himself, and he looked reproachfully at the fair, SAA^eet 
face before him. 

“ You will be glad to see Chu'mbley, will you not ? ” ho said aloud. 

“ Oh yes, very glad ! ” she exclaimed, warmly ; and then, as she met 
his eyes fixed inquiringly, she blushed vividly. 

“ She colours when his name is mentioned,” said Hilton to himself. 
“ I wonder whether ho cares as much for her. He must — he couldn’t 
help it. There, Heaven bless her I Other people are more fortunate 
than I.” 

“ That dreadful woman seems as if she would not go,” whispered 
Mrs. Bolter. “Pray forgive me for leaving you, Captain Hilton, but 
I must not lot her tease Mr. Harley to death as she teases me.” 

As she spoke little Mrs. Bolter left the room, the strident sound of 
Mrs. Barlow’s voice coming loudly as the door was opened, while ■when 
it was closed all was perfectly silent. 


308 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Gray Stuart’s hand involuntarily went out as if to stay Mrs. Holter ; 
then it fell to her side, and she sat there painfully conscious and 
suffering acute mental pain. 

“ Poor little maiden ! ” thought Hilton, as he saw her trouble. “ She 
is afraid of me ; ” and he let his eyes rest upon the open window before 
he spoke. The intense heat seemed to float into the room, bearing 
with it the scent of the creepers outside, and of a tall topic tree covered 
with white blossoms, whose spreading branches sheltered the doctor’s 
cottage from the blazing sun. 

From that hour the warm air, scented with the rich perfume of 
flowers and those white blossoms clustering without, seemed some- 
how to be associated in Hilton’s mind with Gray Stuart, who sat back 
there pale now as her white dress, wanting to speak, to break the 
painful silence, but not daring for some few minutes, lest he should 
detect the tremble in her voice. 

“ You start very soon, do you not, Captain Hilton ? ” she said. 

“Yes ; I hoped to have been on the river ere this,” he said, with a 
bitter intonation that he could not check. 

“And you will discover poor Helen, and bring her back ? ” she said, 
forcing herself to speak of a subject that she felt would be welcome to 
him. 

“ If men can do it, we will succeed ! ” he replied, earnestly. 

“ Poor Helen ! ” sighed Gray. “ Tell her, Mr. Hilton — from me ” 

“ Yes,” he said, eagerly, for she hesitated and stopped. 

“ That her old schoolfellow’s arms long to embrace her once again, 
and that the hours have seemed very bitter since she has been gone.” 

“ Yes,” he said. “ I will tell her. Miss Stuart. Poor girl ! she will 
need all the consolation that can be given her, and it will be welcome 
news to her that she is sure of yours.” 

“Sure of mine. Captain Hilton? Oh, yes. For many years past 
I have felt like the sister of Helen Perowne.” 

“Who is happy in possessing so dear a friend,” he said, gravely. 
“ May she ever retain your friendship — nay, I should call it sisterly 
love.” , 

“ She shall,” said Gray, in a voice that sounded hard and firm. “ I 
am not one to change lightly in my friendships.” 

“ No,” he said, quietly ; “ you cannot be.” 

“ How quiet and unimpulsive he is,” thought Gray. “ How wanting 
in eagerness to go to Helen’s help. Surely now that she needs all his 
sympathy and love — now that she must be in a terrible state of 
suffering — he could not be so base as to forsake her ! He could not, 
he would not do that ! I should hate him if he did.” 

There was a pause then, and they both seemed to bo listening to the 
hum of voices in the next room ; and then Gray Stuart said to herself, 
softly : 

“ Should I hate him if he did ? ” 

The answer came directly. 

“ Yes, for the man I could love must be too chivalrous to wrong a 
woman by neglect in her time of trial.” 

“ Yes.’^said Hilton, rousing himself from a state of abstraction, “ we 


A QUESTION or ESCAPE. 


3C9 


must soon be upon tbe river; I expected that we should have been 
there before now.” 

“ I pray Heaven for your safety and success, Captain Hilton,” said 
Gray Stuart, gravely. 

“ And for Chumbley’s too ? ” he said. 

“ And for Lieutenant Chumbley’s and Mr. Harley’s too,” she said, 
in a low voice. 

As she spoke the door opened, and Mrs. Bolter entered, followed by 
the Eesident ; and as soon as the former was seated. Gray rose, crossed 
the room, and went and stood with her hands resting upon her chair, 
the act seeming to give her strength to bear what was becoming 
painful. 


CHAPTER LXXVI. 

A QUESTION OP ESCAPE. 

Bang ! Crash ! 

The report of the brass lelah and the stroke of the iron ball as it 
shivered the branches of the trees or buried itself in the trunk of some 
palm-tree growing near the bank, but without injuring the occupants of 
the sampan in the slightest degree. 

The faces of Ismael and his companions were now of a curious muddy 
hue, and they shivered with dread, but they held the doctor even more 
in awe, and obeyed his orders to keep on paddling with such strength 
as was in them left, and seemed ready enough to persevere as long as 
the boat would float beneath them, hopeless as the case might be. 

As the doctor very well knew, it was only a question of time, and 
had he been alone he would not have hesitated about surrendering ; 
but with Helen in his charge, there was too much at stake. So he 
determined, with all the stubbornness of an Englishman, to hold out 
to the very last extremity. 

“ I’m a man of peace,” he muttered, “ but I’ve had to fight in my 
time, and if I am driven to it, they shall buy Helen Perbwne at the 
cost of three or four lives at least ; and if I can manage it the chief’s 
shall be one.” 

He glanced at Helen, who lay back with her eyes closed, and her 
swarthy face seemed to rouse a bitter feeling of anger in the doctor’s 
breast. 

“ The blackguards I ” he growled. “ To serve an English lady like 
that. I’ll make some of them pay for it, and dearly too.” 

“I say. Bolter,” he muttered, “I’d no idea that you were such a 
brave fellow. I don’t feel half so nervous as I expected I should, and 
hang me if I’ll give it up till I have fairly fought it out. I wonder 
whether I could hit Master Rajah Murad at this distance ? Well, let 

him put his head over the side of the boat, and I’ll try What, my 

dear ? ” he cried, as Helen spoke feebly. 

“Is our position hopeless, doctor ? ” she said. 

“ Hopeless ? Not a bit of it, my dear. I’m going to exhibit another 
medicine directly. You lie quite still and don’t raise your head. 


310 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Trust to your medical man, my dear. Always have confidence in your 
medical man.” 

For answer she turned her great dark eyes upon him with a look of 
such hopeless misery that the doctor set his teeth hard. 

“ By Jove ! ” he cried, starting in spite of himself, as there 
was a sharp report and a bullet whistled close by him. “Hi ! you 
scoundrels ! How dare you fire upon a boat containing a Queen’s 
officer,” 

He let the butt of his gun rest in the bottom of the vessel, and 
turned and shook his fist threateningly at the advancing prahu ; but 
the only answer elicited was another shot, not by any means so well 
aimed as the last, the sound of which seemed to ring in his ear as 
it whizzed by. 

“ The scoundrels shall smart for this ! ” he cried, furiously. “ They’ve 
fired — bear witness of this, Ismael — they’ve fired upon a boat contain- 
ing a British officer and an English lady, and — hang ’em ! there they go 
again ! ” 

And this shot and another came whizzing by, but the rapid motion of 
the sampin, the want of practice on the part of the Malays, and their 
bad management of their clumsy gun, kept them from doing any 
mischief to the fugitives. 

“At last!” cried the doctor, as the dense mass of vegetation that 
screened the mouth of the little river »ime in sight. “ Now then, my 
lads, keep up. You shall bo rewarded handsomely for this. Make a 
good dash for it, and we shall soon be clear.” 

Doctor Bolter’s words were big, and h’is face was cheerful, but his 
hopes were small, and his heart felt very sad, for he knew well enough 
that unless as soon as they cleared the canes and bushes before them, 
and got out into the open river, they found help or concealment, which 
was ext remely doubtful, they would be at a terrible disadvantage. For 
out in the wide river the prahu would have plenty of room to manoeuvre ; 
it could be driven at full speed, turned easily, and would either run 
them down.or come alongside and grapple them without the slightest 
difficulty. 

“ But I’ll fight for it to the last,” muttered the doctor, as he caught 
a fresh glance from Helen’s sorrow'ful eyes. “ Poor little woman ! 
what a Mget she would be in if she only knew ! Never mind, she 
would pat me on the back for what I am doing ; and whatever she 
might say against it on my account, she’d want me to fight.” 

He looked back at the pi*ahu, which was still advancing, and raised 
his gun to fire, but only lowered it again. 

“No,” he muttered; “ a w.asto of shot. I couldn’t hit the 
steersman.” 

Ho stood thinking for a moment, and then, laying down his gun, he 
took up a spare paddle and began working with all his might, striving 
to urge the boat forward. 

The help came when it was most needed, for the floating reeds and 
bushes were no light obstacles to so small a boat, and they began to 
lose ground now as they struggled through. But after a fierce interval 
of ellort, and just as the doctor was growing giddy with excitement, 


A QUESTION OF ESCAPE. 


Sll 


and half blind with exertion, the last mass of bushes was passed, and 
they floated clear into the swift stream of the main river. 

“ Now for it, my lads I ” cried the doctor, manfully, the perspiration 
streaming down his red-brown face, as he made the water flash 
from his paddle; “we shall do it now.” 

But before they had gone flfty yards down the stream, at a far 
higher rate than before, they heard the rustle and crashing of the 
big prahu forcing its way through the bushes, and in another minute 
it, too, would have been clear. 

Fortune does, however, sometimes favour the brave ; for just then 
there was a sharp crack, and one of the prahu’s sweeps broke short off, 
the man who pulled it fell back heavily against his neighbour, who in 
turn was thrown out, and like skittles, half a dozen of the rowers ere 
in confusion. 

This happened at a critical moment, just as the men were rowing 
their hardest, and the result of the check on one side was that the head 
of the prahu was pulled sharply round, and the stem crashed in amongst 
the bushes to the left of the steersman, ran right into the soft, muddy 
bank, and the vessel lay across the stream. 

Doctor Bolter could not tell what was wrong ; but he could hear the 
noise of shouting and the confusion that followed, enough to explain 
to him that there was something very much amiss, and in the satis- 
faction that it gave him he mentally exclaimed: 

“ I don’t wish harm to any man upon the face of this little eai-th, 
but if that prahu and all on board are going to the bottom, it will be 
a blessing indeed.” 

This respite gave the Malay boatmen heart, and bending once more 
to their task, they strove hard to send the sampan onward so as to get 
round a curve of the stream where the trees of the jungle grew high 
upon the bank and spread far out over the river. This b^end once 
passed, they would be out of sight when the prahu cleared the bushes. 

It was a long way ahead, and the shouting and confusion seemed 
so terribly close at hand that the doctor fully expected another shot ; 
but he paddled bravely on, and at last this part of their task was 
achieved, giving them a fresh sensation of relief as they saw the wide, 
open stretch of river before them, with its verdant, tree-shaded banks. 

But they looked in vain for help : the stream was clear of boats, and 
the doctor knew that concealment was now their only chance. The 
Malay — Ismael — knew it too, for, raising his paddle from the water, 
he pointed to a dense spot that seemed admirably adapted for a hiding- 
place ; the doctor nodded assent, and with a sweep of the paddle the 
course of the boat was altered, her head being set across the stream. 
Then, as the doctor looked back to see that they were not followed, a 
warning cry from the boatmen made him lower his head, just as the 
sampan glided in beneath the overhanging boughs, and they floated on 
in a pleasant arcade of leafy boughs, the grateful shadows shutting 
them entirely from the sight of passers-by upon the river, whose glit- 
tering surface they surveyed through a thick screen of leaves. 


312 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


CHAPTER LXXVII. 

“l WISH YOU SUCCESS.” 

“ Gone at last, my dear ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Bolter. “ I’m sure that 
woman will drive me mad.” Then turning to the Resident — “ I feel 
now, Mr. Harley, as if I ought to have opposed it much more strenuously. 
I don’t like his running up and down the country like this, and I’m 
very much troubled about it. Of course I don’t put any faith in what 
such a woman as that Mrs. Barlow would say, but she would keep hint- 
ing that there is more in these journeys than we know of. I feel, of 
course, that I ought not to stoop to notice such remarks, but when one 
one is left like this they w’ill make an impression. I don’t think the 
doctor ought to have gone away, and left me alone.” 

“ I sincerely wish that he had not gone,” said the Resident; “but 
Doctor Bolter’s ardent love of natural history and his belief in discovery 
must be his excuses for a great deal.” 

“ Yes, yes, I know I ” cried the little woman excitedly ; and a severe 
mental struggle was evidently going on to keep back something upon 
her mind. But it was all in vain. The passionate feeling of jealousy 
that had been lit by the foolish tongue of the woman who had been 
constantly coming in and harping upon the theme, now began to glow, 
and in spite of her efforts the anger fanned the flame, till, in a gust of 
passion that made her cheeks burn with shame for her question, she 
turned suddenly upon the Resident. 

“ I know it is a shame and a sin to say such a thing, but I can’t help 
it now. I think it’s your hot climate hero has changed me, and made 
me what I am — but you are going up the river on this expedition, Mr. 
Harley ? ” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“ Will you wait for him ? ” 

“ For the doctor ? I’m afraid we must not wait much longer.' 

“Then will you go to that woman’s as you pass up the river, and 
make a thorough search ? I’m ashamed to say it, but I feel perfectly 
sure that Doctor Bolter is there.” 

“ Where ? At the Inche Maida’s ? ” said the Resident wonderingly. 

“ Yes. I am sure he is there.” 

“ And I am certain that he is not ! ” cried Hilton, so warmly that 
the Resident glanced at him. 

“But I — I’m greatly afraid he is,” panted Mrs. Bolter. “Mrs. 
Barlow said that she felt sure it must be so, and I’ve made a very, 
very great mistake in leaving my quiet little home in England, and 
letting my brother accept this chaplaincy.” 

“ Dear Mrs. Bolter — pray hush! ” whispered Gray, as her cheeks 
burned with shame. “ It cannot be as you say.” 

“ My dear Mrs. Bolter ! ” cried the Resident. 

“ He would not of course of his own ideas,” sobbed Mrs. Bolter, who 
was now thoroughly unhinged ; “ but he must have called there when 
looking for gold, or insects, or birds, and been deluded into staying at 
that dreadful woman’s house.” 


“I AVISil YOU SUCCESS.” 


S13 


“ I’ll s-R'ear it is not so,” said Hilton, warmly. “ There, there, my 
dear Mrs. Bolter, you may make yourself easy on that score ! I’ll 
answer for our old friend the doctor.” 

“Bless you, Mr. Hilton ! ” sobbed the little woman, catching at his 
hands ; “ it is very, vei’y good of you to say this. I never liked you 
one-half so well before.” 

“You are upset,” said Hilton, warmly, “and no wonder. Your 
anxiety must be terrible, and I can understand that you feel ready to 
snatch at any explanation of his long absence ; but my dear Mrs. Bol- 
ter, give us men the credit of being a little too strong to be so easily 
led away.” 

Ho spoke in so frank and manly a tone, as he stood holding Mrs. 
Bolter’s hands, that Gray’s eyes lit up, and she darted a look at him 
full of pride and thanks. But it was not seen, for Hilton was looking 
down at poor, troubled little Mrs. Bolter, w’hose secret, one of w^hich 
she felt bitterly ashamed, was now out. 

She was burning with jealousy, for she idolized her husband ; and 
the love that had so long lain latent seemed to bo all the stronger 
for its long quiescence. She disowned the idea of being jealous to her- 
self, and w'as about to biu*st into a furious speech ; but her effort to 
govern herself succeeded. 

Shame and vexation covered her as with a garment ; and hiding her 
face in her hands, she sank back in her chair, sobbing as if her heart 
would break I 

Gray knelt down at her side as Hilton drew back, wrinkling his 
brow, half with vexation, half with contempt, as he looked now at the 
Eesiclent. 

Mr. Harley returned the glance, and they both stood looking on, 
wanting to leave but hardly liking to stir, as poor little Mrs. Bolter 
sobbed forth her trouble, with her head buried now in Gray Stuart’s 
breast. 

“We cannot wait longer,” said the Eesident at last; “ we must go 
and risk it. If wo have any casualties, we must trust to oiu* own 
surgical knowledge, and do the best wo can.” 

“Yes,” said Hilton; “every minute is precious; but I am afraid 
that we are going to a war of words, and not to a war of weapons. Let 
us go. Perhaps Mrs. Bolter will beg of the doctor to come after us in 
one of the small boats if we miss him on our way up.” 

“ Stop a minute,” said Mrs. Bolter, recovering herself by an effort, 
and standing up, red of eye and cheek. “ He will not come back hero 
while you are gone, and I will hesitate no longer, I shall go with 
you ! ” . 

“ Go with us ? ” cried the Eesident and Hilton in a breath. 

“ Yes,’’ said the little woman, decidedly. “ I shall go ! ” 

“But it is impossible!” cried the Eesidsut. “There may bo 
fighting ! ” 

“ Then you would want help. I do know a little surgery, and moro 
nursing; so I could be of great service.” 

“ But, my dear Mrs. Bolter ! ” cried Hilton. 

“ Now, it is of no use for you to talk ! ” cried the little lady, “ I 


314 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


feel it is a duty that I am called upon to fulfil. Thcro is my brother 
somewhere up in those dreadful jungles, as thoughtless and as helpless 
as a child. He is all strength in goodness and spiritual matters ; but 
as to taking care of himself, he is like a baby. I know he is lost ! ** 

“ It is very good of you,” said the Resident, warmly ; “ but, my dear 
Mrs. -Bolter, pray trust to us to find all oiir missing people. You know 
what Doctor Bolter is.” 

“Yes — no— yes — no!” she cried, passionately. “I don’t quite 
know him yet ; but I know my duty as his — his — wife. I shall go : for 
if he has, through his weakness, been led into any entanglement with 
that wretched, wicked black ci'eature, I know and I feel, that at any 
suffering to myself, I ought to go and fetch him back— and I will ! ” 

As she said this in a fierce determined way, the two officers gazed 
again in each other’s faces, amused, vexed, troubled, puzzled ; for what, 
they silently asked each other, were they to do ? 

“Mrs. Bolter— dear Mrs. Bolter!” said Gray Stuart, solving the 
problem for them, as, in a tender, womanly way, she passed her arm 
round the determined little lady, and drew her to her breast, “ you are 
angry and upset by your trouble ; but you will — no — ^jmu cannot do 
this thing! You love dear Doctor Bolter too well to misjudge him. 
Pray, pray think of the pain it would give him, did he know that you 
had thought and spoken like this ! ” 

“ And — and as I never did before — before — he came and — and dis- 
tui*bed my quiet life at home ! ” cried the little woman. “ You — you are 
right, my darling ! I — I couldn’t do such a thing ; and I wouldn’t have 
said it only — only — I am half mad ! Don’t — don't recollect all this, 
Harley — Captain Hilton ! It is of course impossible ! Go at once — 
and — bring him back to me, for this suspense is more than I can 
bear! ” 

“We’ll do our best,” said the Resident. “ There, cheer up. We’ll 
forget all this, and so will you when our dear old friend is back. Tell 
him we wanted his help and counsel badly, but we could not wait. Tell 
him, too, that I share his suspicions.” 

“ Suspicions ? ” cried little Mrs. Bolter, firing up once more. 

“ Yes, on the subject we discussed,” said the Resident, gravely, as he 
shook hands. “ There good-bye. Wish us success. ” 

“ Yes, wish us success,” said Hilton, taking her hand. “ I pledge you 
my word that you are right in what you now think about the doctor, 
who is as true a little gentleman as ever breathed ! ” 

Poor little Mrs. Bolter uttered a sob, and raised Hilton’s hand to 
her lips and kissed it for the words he had uttered, for she dared not 
trust herself to speak ! 

“ Good-bye,” said the Resident again. “ All this is as good as dead, 
and quite forgotten ! ” 

“ Yes, yes,” said little Mi's. Bolter. “ You will keep a sharp look- 
out for dear Arthur. I feel sure he is wandering about somewhere, 
half-starved, but loaded with specimens that he has found.” 

“ Good-bye, Miss Stuart,” said Hilton, in a low, grave voice, for he 
felt deeply moved, and his heart had seemed to swell within his breast 
as he looked on while she had seemed to lead and control her excited, 


LABOUE IN VAIN. 


315 


passion-swajed friend. “ Wish me success, for I shall try, while I have 
life, to restore to you your unfortunate friend.” 

“ Yes,” she said, softly; and the sad tears stood in her eyes. “I 
wish you success.” 

“Helen Perowne will need all your love and sympathy when we 
bring her back.” 

“As I pray Heaven you will,” she said, quietly. “You will have 
our constant prayers for your safety. Good-bye.” 

“ Good-bye.” 

Their hands touched for a moment, and a thrill of misery flew to 
each heart. 

“ How he must love her ! ” thought Gray. “ Oh ! Helen, how can 
you trifle with him as you do ? ” 

“ I remember,” thought Hilton, as he turned away, feeling as wretched 
ns he had ever felt in his life, “ that I used to read a little fable, when 
I was a child, about a dog and his shadow. I’ve been running after 
the shadow all this time, and I have lost tLe substance. Unlucky 
dog!” 

“ "What are you thinking, about, Hilton ? ” said the Eesident, as 
they stepped out of the cool, shady veranda into the blazing sunshine, 
and began walking towards the landing-place to embark for the 
Eesidency island. 

“Thinking?” said Hilton. “Oh! I don’t know; only that it 
would not be of much consequence if a fellow got a Malay spear through 
his lungs.” 


CHATTER LXXVilL 

LABOUR Ix\ TAIN. 

The fugitives had not been lying in their shady place of concealment 
many minutes before the loud buzz of voices and shouting ceased. 
Then came the whithing and brushing noise of twigs and bushes, and 
in the midst of the silence that followed they made out the beating of 
oars once more, and soon after the prahu came into sight, gliding 
swiftly down the stream. 

As it came nearer, those in the sampan hardly dared to breathe, but 
crouched there, waiting patiently till the great vessel had passed. 

So plainly could everything be seen in the broad sunlight that, as 
the crew were evidently keeping a sharp look-out on both sides, it seemed 
impossible, in spite of the hanging boughs, for the fugitives to 
remain unseen. 

Nearer came the prahu, the steersman sending it well in towards 
them ; a dozen eyes were fixed upon the leafy screen, and feeling that 
the time for desperate action had come, the doctor took up his gun and 
held it ready for use, if, after a parley, the occupants of the prahu 
sought to rob him of what he reasonably called his prize. 

They were anxious moments, and more than once, when the prahu 


316 


ONE MAID'S MISCHIEF. 


■was close abreast, the doctor made sure, from the expression of the 
men’s faces, that they could see through the screen. 

But no ; the -water -was ablaze, in its ripple, as it were, with silver 
fire ; the leaves glistened in the sun’s rays, and beyond them all seemed 
to be in impenetrable darkness, the result being that the prahu passed 
on its way, going faster and faster, till, as the doctor parted the leaves 
to gaze out, the stern of the long row-boat disappeared round a bend 
some five hundred yards away, and the question now was, what was the 
best thing to do ? 

Helen was nearly fainting with heat and excitement ; and gently 
lifting her, so that her head was by the side, the doctor spent the next 
few minutes in bathing her face with the clear cold water that glided 
swiftly in amongst the overhanging boughs. 

“ Well, Ismael, what next?” said the doctor. “Do you think we 
might venture to follow them slowly down ? ” 

“ No master ! ” was the emphatic reply. “ The prahu will not 
go far without finding that we are not in front ; then she will leave a 
small boat with men to see that we do not pass, while the prahu comes 
back to search the river sides. Sampans and small prahus always 
hide under the branches like this.” 

“ Then why propose such a blind trick ? ” cried the doctor. 

“ If the master could have shown a better way his servants would have 
been content,” said the Malay, humbly. 

“ But I could not propose a better way ! ” cried the doctor, angrily. 
“ We could not escape from a swift boat like that. Well, what, shall 
we do ? ” 

“ I shoald land, master, and try to escape through the jungle.” 

“ Impossible !” cried the doctor, glancing at Helen’s swollen feet. 
“ She could not walk a mile, and we could not carry her.” 

“ It would not bo wise to try and go up stream, master,” said the 
Malay. 

“I don’t know that,” replied the doctor. “We must get away 
somewhere. To stay here is to be hunted out and taken.” 

He paused to listen, and as he did so the beat of the great oars came 
loudly ; and directly after he sank back in the boat with a look of 
misery upon his face, for the prahu could be seen once more returning 
up stream, and to have attempted to leave their concealment now 
meant certain capture. 

It soon became very evident that the officer in command of the prahu 
felt sure that they were in hiding somewhere close at hand, for ho had 
his boat steered close in to the opposite shore ; and as they glided slowly 
by, men with poles thrust aside the branches, and keen eyes were 
evidently peering scrutinizingly amongst the leaves. 

The doctor turned angrily in his place, thinking of what he should 
do; but all thought seemed in vain, and the conclusion was forced 
upon him that their only chance was to lie quiet and trust to their not 
being seen. 

He was a man, however, of no little activity of mind; and as soon as 
this was forced upon him he immediately set to work to try and 
improve their position. 


LABOUR IN VAIN. 


317 


Giving his instructions, then, in a whisper, the sampan was dragged 
in closer to the shore, and leaves and boughs being reached were 
dragged over them, the doctor cutting several branches to lay over the 
boat where it was fixed in its place; and this being done, he made the 
Malays lie down, he remaining in a kneeling position as he enlaced the 
boughs above his head till all was to his satisfaction, after which 
he crouched down and waited. 

Poor Doctor Bolter had worked at his task till the perspiration 
streamed from his face, little thinking that he had closed up every 
aperture through which danger might enter but one, and that one was 
plain to anyone in search of the fugitives. 

It was very unfortunate, but it never occurred to him. He had 
broken the branches with the greatest care, turning huge leaves over 
the broken ends to keep them from looking strange, and he had care- 
fully picked up and laid in the boat every leaf that had been broken 
off, but still there was a sign visible by which the searchers might 
detect the hidden party should they use any diligence as they came 
that way. 

The fugitives were not long kept in suspense, for very soon the plash 
of the prahu’s oars was heard, and then the shadow of the great boat 
shut out some of the light as she brushed against the branches. Oars 
and poles beat aside the boughs, and the excitement grew intense as 
the searchers came nearer and nearer. The two boatmen laid iheir 
heads upon their knees, and Doctor Bolter placed the gun in the bottom 
of the boat, gave Helen’s hand a reassuring pressure, and then took up 
his revolver as being a better weapon for such close quarters. 

“They’re in here somewhere,” cried a voice in Malayan ; “ beat the 
branches aside ; they must be found.” 

The crew of the prahu encoiu’aged each other with shouts as they 
bent aside the boughs ; and the b^oat, after being rowed some little 
distance past them, was allowed to drift slowly down, some of the men 
holding on by the branches to keep her from going dow'n-stream too 
fast. 

The fugitives lay quite still, hardly daring to breathe as this went 
on, the search at one time being so near that they felt that they must 
be seen. But in spite of the keen searchings of a score or so of piercing 
eyes, the prahu slowly passed them lower and lower down the stream, 
till the voices began to grow faint. 

“ Saved, my dear,” said the doctor, in a whisper. “ They will not 
come back now. Hold up a bit longer, and I will see you safe in your 
father’s arms.” 

In spite of her efforts, Helen could not keep back a passionate burst 
of tears, her sobs, stifled though they were, becoming so hysterical that 
the doctor grew alarmed, and tried hard to comfort her. 

“ Thank goodness ! ” he muttered at last, as she calmed down ; and 
ho was in the act of raising his handkerchief to wipe his streaming face, 
when he turned cold, for the prahu was being rowed up-stream once 
more. 

There was nothing for it but to lie still and wait, for there was a 
possibility of the search being ended ; but to their agonj and despair 


318 


ONE ]MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


tho vessel was allowed to come slowly floating back, the search being 
continued till, as they came nearly opposite, one of the crew uttered a 
loud shout, and pointed to where, like a silvery patch in the darkness, 
the sun was shining in upon the doctor’s glistening bald head. 

Tho next minute the prahu’s stem was forced in amongst the bushes 
and overhanging boughs, and half a dozen Malays dropped from her 
side right into the boat. 

Doctor Bolter made a desperate attempt at defending his charge, but 
one of the prahu’s crew leaped right down upon his back, jerking his 
arm so that the first shot from his revolver went into the jungle, the 
second through the bottom of tho sampan, and the third remained in 
the pistol-chamber, for the trigger was not drawn, the pistol being 
wrenched from his hand. 

The next few minutes were occupied in binding roughly him and his 
men, and then, in spite of his angry denunciations and threats of the 
British vengeance, they were hauled into the prahu. Helen was slung 
up — she being quite prostrate now — and amidst the laughter and 
chattering of the swarthy Malays, the prahu’s head was turned towards 
the little river, with the sampan towing behind, and the boats soon 
after went rushing through the water on their upward way. 

“ Horrible ! ” muttered the doctor, as he realized his position. 
“ They will take us up the little river to that scoundrel’s place in the 
jungle, and I never told a soul where we were going. Was ever any- 
thing so unlucky ? As for that Murad, once let me get the opportunity, 
and he shall smart for this — a vile, treacherous scoundrel! Poor 
Helen, what can I do ! ” 

He drew his breath painfully through his teeth as he uttered these 
words, for just then a shoAvily-dressed Malay went to where Helen was 
seated, and going down upon one knee, he raised her head. 

“ Poor girl, she is fainting ! ” muttered the doctor. Then his heart 
seemed to stand still, for Helen uttered a piteous cry for help, and for 
the first time the doctor saw that the shoAvily-dressed Malay supporting 
Helen’s bead was tho Rajah himself I 


CHAPTER LXXIX. 

RICUES TAKE TO THEMSELVES WINGS. 

“ Ah, Gray, my child,” said little Mrs. Bolter, with a loud burst of 
sobbing, as soon as they were alone, “if ever you marry, don’t marry 
a medical man ! I try so hard — Heaven knows how hard — not to let 
such thoughts come into my mind ; but I’ve altered terribly, my dear, 
since 1 was married. The doctor has made me love him very much ; 
and it’s being so fond of him that has caused this dreadful jealous 
feeling to spring up ; and it finds vent in my being snappish to him, 
and complaining about all sorts of trifles that are of no consequence at 
aU 1 ” 


RICHES TAKE TO THEMSELVES WINGS, 


819 


“ But you ought not to let such thoughts come into your mind,” said 
Gray, reproachfully. 

“I know I ought not, my dear,” said the unhappy little body, 
clinging to her young friend’s hand ; “ but they will come. It’s just 
as if I were being tempted by mocking spirits, which keep on pretend- 
ing to open my eyes when the doctor is out.” 

“ Open your eyes, dear Mrs. Bolter ? ” said Gray, who found relief 
for her own sore heart in trying to soothe another’s. 

“ Yes, my dear. I’m confessing quite openly to you now, my dear ; 
but I know that you will never betray me. They seem to open my 
eyes to all sorts of things, and make me see the doctor, when he is 
called in to ladies, taking their hands and feeling their pulses ; and oh, 
my dear, it is very dreadful to sit at home and think that your husband 
is holding some handsome woman’s hand and wrist, and feeling the 
beatings of her pulses, and perhaps all the time forgetting that he has 
a poor, anxious little wife at home thinking he is so long away ! ” 

“ When that same husband loves you very dearly, and is most likely 
longing to be back by your side,” said Gray, reproachfully. 

V If one could only feel that,” said Mrs. Bolter, “ instead of being 
in such torture and misery, and wishing a hundred times a day that I 
had never listened to the doctor, and given up our quiet little home ! ” 

“ When you have come out to make his life so happy ? ” said Gray, 
smiling. 

“I try to, my dear ; but I can’t help thinking sometimes,” said the 
poor little woman, pathetically, “ that his heart is more devoted to 
Solomon’s gold ” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Bolter ! ” 

“And apes.” 

“ My dear Mrs. Bolter ! ” 

“And peacocks,” sobbed the little woman, “ than it is to me. Ab 
my dear, when you marry ” 

“I shall never marry, Mrs. Bolter,” said Gray, with a sad ring in 
her voice. 

“ Oh, you don’t know, my child. I used to say so, and think that 
I was as firm as a rock, and as hard as iron ; but oh, these men — these 
men — when onc^ you listen to their dreadful, insinuating talk, they 
seem to get the better of your proper judgment, and end by 'completely 
turning you round their finger.” 

Gray smiled in her face and kissed her. 

“ There, there ! ” cried Mrs. Bolter, changing her tone, “ I ani afraid 
I have lowered myself terribly in your eyes this morning, my dear. 
I’m growing into a very, very strange creature, and dreadfully weak ! 
Those torturing thoughts keep suggesting to my foolish heart that the 
doctor has gone up the river on purpose to see the Inche Maida ! ” 

“ Oh, no ; he cannot ! ” said Gray, smiling. 

“ Well, perhaps not, my dear; but whether or no, if he was to come 
back now, and confess that he had done so, I feel perfectly certain that, 
after scolding him well, I should forgive him. I’ve grown to be a very 
different body to tlie one you knew when you used to come to us from 
the Miss Twettcuhams’.” 

21 


S20 


ONE MAID’S MISCmEF. 


“ Now, look here, dear Mrs. Bolter,” said Gray, who, in her friend’s 
trouble, seemed to have changed places with her, and become the elder 
of the two, “ I believe Doctor Bolter to be a really good, true man, to 
whom I should go in trouble and speak to as if he were my father, 
sxTre that he would be kind and wise, and help and protect me, w'hether 
my trouble were mental or bodily.” 

“ My dear,” cried Mrs. Bolter, gazing at her with admiration, “you 
talk like a little Solomon ! Ah ! ” she cried, impatiently, “ I wish 
there had never been a Solomon at all ! ” 

“ Why ? ” said Gray, wonderingly. 

“ Because then Harry would never have been always dz'eaming about 
gold, and Tarsliish and Ophir, and all that stuff I ” 

“ My dear Mrs. Bolter,” continued Gray, affectionately, “ I feel that 
I am perfectly right about Doctor Bolter, and I hope you will not be 
hurt when I tell you that I think you are very hard and unjust to 
him ! ” 

“Hurt, my darling ! ” sobbed the little woman, “no, indeed I am 
very giuteful, my dear, and I wish you would scold me well. It would 
do mo good ! ” 

“ I am sure, then, without scolding you,” s iid Gray, smiling, “ that 
the doctor is one of the best of men ! ” 

“ He is — he is, indeed, my dear ! ” cried Mrs. Bolter ; “ and I’m sure 
I’d forgive him anything ! ” 

“ And you have nothing to forgive,” said Gray. “ I am sure of it ; 
and I hope and pray that you will not be so unjust ! ” 

“ Do you think I am unjust, my dear ? ” said the little lady. 

“ Unintentionally, yes,” replied Gray ; “ and it is such a pity that 
there should be clouds in such a happy home ! ” 

“ You — ^you are — a dear little angel of goodness. Gray ! ” sobbed Mrs. 
Bolter; “and you seem to come like sunshine into my poor, weak, 
foolish heart ; and I’ll never be suspicious or unkind to him again I 
He’s only studying a little up the river of course ; and I’m — as you’ve 

shown me — a weak, foolish, cruel ” 

“Affectionate, loving wife,” interrupted Gray, who felt herself 
crushed the next moment in little Mrs. Bolter’s arms. 

“ Bless you, my dear ! ” she cried. “ I’ll ” 

“ Hush ! ” whispered Gray. “ Here is my father ! ” 

The little lady hastily wiped her eyes as she glanced through the 
veranda, and saw the bent, thin, dried-up figure of the old merchant 
coming through the burning sunshine past the window, and then he 
stopped and tapped at the door. 

“ May I come in ?” he said. “ I’m not a patient.” 

“ Yes, yes, come in ! ” cried Mrs. Bolter, cheerfully. 

“ How do — how do ? ” he cried, on entering. “ AVeel, Gray bairnio, 
how is it with ye ? ” 

He kissed her in his dry fashion, smiling slightly as he smoothed his 
child’s fair hair, and bending down to kiss her : 

“ I’m verra hot, and verra dry and parched up like, so I thought I’d 
joost step in and ask for a glass of watter, and joost a soospeeshun of 
the doctor’s bad whuskee to kill the insects.” 


RICHES TAKE TO THEMSELVES WINGS. 


321 


“ Which I’m sure you shall have, Mr. Stuart,” cried little Mrs. Bolter, 
eagerly. 

“ Weel, Gray, my bairnie, ye look red in your een and pale, when you 
ought to bo verra happy to think things are all so pleasant and smooth 
for you.” 

“ Indeed, I try to be very Lappy and contented, father,” sho said, 
with a slight catching of the breath. 

“ Try,” ho cried, “ try ? Why, it ought to want no trying ; you ought 
to be as happy as the day is long.” 

“ For shame, Mr, Stuart,” cried Mrs. Bolter, handing him the largo 
cool tumbler of water with the v/hiskey already in. “ Would you have 
her show no sympathy for people who are all in trouble ? It’s a weary, 
miserable world and I wonder you can look as happy as you do.” 

“ Hoot — toot, madam ! weary miserable world 1 Here are you with 
the best of husbands. You ought to be ready to jump for joy.” 

“ But I’m not,” said the little woman, passionately. “ But I’m not 
so miserable as I was.” 

“ That’s a comfort,” said the little merchant, drily ; and he took a sip 
from his tumbler — a goodly sip — as if he intended to finish all that was 
there. “ Hech ! madam, ye didna forget the whuskee.” 

“ Is it too strong, Mr. Stuart ? Let me put in a little more water.” 

“ Mair watter ! nay ; ye’d spoil a verra decent drink for a hot day.’ 

“ I’m glad you like it.” 

“ Hah ! ye ought to bo verra happy indeed, wumman, for the doctor’s 
a good man, and a trusty fren’. Hah ! that’s good whuskee,” ho 
added, with a sigh of satisfaction after a deep draught. “ Life would 
be but a sore look-out in these parts wi’out joost a soop o’ whuskee to 
take the taste o’ the crocodiles out o’ the watter.” 

“ It is very hot out of doors, is it not, father ? ” said Gray, who was 
wondering what he meant to say. 

“ Ay, it’s hot enough,” ho replied. “An’ so ye’re not verra happy, 
Mrs. Bolter ? Ay, but ye ought to be, and so ought my child Gray 
here, wi’ every comfort in life except extravagances, which I don’t hold 
with at all. 8he lives W’ell, and dresses quietly, as a young lady should, 
and her father has not set up a grand house to flash and show in, and 
then have to give it up, and go and live in one that’s wee.” 

“ I don’t quite understand you,” said Mrs. Bolter, colouring slightly, 
and looking indignant. “ But if you are hinting at the doctor being 
extravagant, I cannot sit here without resenting it, for a more careful 
man never lived.” 

“ Ay, but he’s a sad dog, the doctor,” said old Stuart, with a twinkle 
full of malice in his eye. 

“ How dare you say such a thing to me — his wife ! ” cried Mrs. 
Bolter, indignantly. 

‘ ‘ Hoct ! wumman ; dinna be fashed ! ” exclaimed old Stuart, who 
seemed delighted to have roused a spirit of opposition in his friend’s 
wife, “But I’ll say this o’ him,” he continued, gradually growing 
more Scottish of accent ; “ he does keep gude whuskee. Ay, I was na’ 
speaking o’ him when I talked aboot largo and sma’ houses, but o’ poor 
Perowne. Ay, but it’s a bad job.” 


322 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ What, about poor Helen ? ” said Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Ay, and his affairs. I suppose ye ken a’ ? ” 

“His affairs ? ” exclaimed Mrs. Doctor. “What do you mean ? ” 

“ Oh ! I thought a’ Sindang knew he’d failed. Sax hundred pounds 
o’ my money goes with the rest. But there, puir mon, he’s in trouble 
enough wi’ the loss o’ his daughter, and I’ll never say a word about it 
more.” 

“ Is Mr. Perowne in fresh trouble then, father? ” said Gray, eagei’Iy. 

“ Weel, my lassie, there’s naught fresh about it, for he must have 
expected it for a year or two. He’s been going down-hill a lang time, 
and noo he’s recht at the bottom.” 

“ Has he failed, father ? ” 

“ Joost ruined and bankrupt, my lassie, and Helen won’t have a 
penny to call her own — a proud, stuck-up ” 

“Hush, father ! I cannot bear it,” cried Gray, with spirit. “Helen 
Perowne is my friend and schoolfellow, and surely she is in trouble 
enough to ask our sympathy and not our blame ! ” 

“ Why, how now, lassie! ” cried the old man, angrily. “Ay, but 
ye’re quite right,” he said, checking himself. “ We ought to pity them, 
and not jump upon ’em when they’re down. Ye’re quite recht. Gray, 
my bairnie — quite recht.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Stuart, how shocking ; and just when he is so ill and east 
down ! Gray, my child, I must go and see if I can be of help to him. 
Will you stay with your father ? ” 

“Ay, she’ll stay, and you may too, Mrs. Bolter, for Perowne has 
gone across to the Eesidency, and before now they’re awa’ up the river 
to try and find his poor lassie. “Ye’re quite recht, Gray, my child ; 
and if they find her and bring her back, stop wi’ her and comfort her, 
and do the best ye can. I’m sorry for them, for we’re none o’ us pair- 
feet. But this is verra gude whuskee, Mrs. Bolter. When do ye ex- 
pect the Doctor home ? ” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Stuart,” she said, sadly, “ Soon, I hope ; but 
when he does come back he’ll have to go after the expedition. It’s very 
sad to be a doctor’s -wife.” 

“To bo wife to some doctors,” said old Stuart, laughing; “but 
not to our Bolter. Eh, but ye’re a lucky wumman to get him. If ye 
hadn’t taken him, I believe I should have made him marry my lassie 
hero. There, I must be going though, for my hands are full. I’m try- 
ing to save a few hundreds for poor Perowne out of the wreck.” 

“ When shall I see you again, father? ” said Gray, clinging to him 
affectionately. 

“Oh, heaps o’ times, my bairnie, when ye don’t expect it. I’m 
always looking out after ye, but I know ye’re all recht wd’ Mrs. Bolter 
here, so do all ye can.” 

lie nodded and smiled as he went out of the room, but looked iu 
again directly. 

“Ye needna be uneasy you two,” he said, “ for I’m having a watch 
kept over ye both, though yedon’t ken it; so go on joost as usual. 
If I hear of the doctor coming, Mrs. Bolter, I’ll let ye know.” 

They heard his steps in the veranda, and directly after saw his bent;, 


THE FIRE BURNS AGAIN. 


823 


thin figure out in the scorching sun, with no further protection than a 
bit of muslin round his old straw hat, and looking as if he were not 
worth fifty pounds in the world, and the last man to be the father of 
the graceful little maiden sitting holding Mrs. Bolter’s hand. 


CHAPTER LXXX. 

THE FIRE BURNS AGAIN. 

Days of anxiety and watching, with no news of the expedition which 
had started directly after Gray Stuart’s father had crossed over to the 
island. The English community at Sindang were extremely uneasy, 
for it struck them that the Malays were keeping aloof, and that their 
servants, looked ill-conditioned and sulky. 

A strange silence seemed to reign in the place, with an almost utter 
absence of trade. No boats carae^down with flowers and fruit, and no 
cheerful intercourse was carried oh as heretofore. Nothing had been 
seen of the Inche Maida, and Murad was quite an absentee; while not 
a word had been brought down the river relating to the doings of the 
expedition. 

In accordance with the Resident’s secretly-issued orders, every 
European left stood in readiness to flee to the Residency island, where 
the little garrison under the care of a subaltern, kept strict watch and 
ward, and held themselves prepared to go to the aid of the merchants 
and their families, should there be need. 

But day after day glided by, and still no doctor — no news. 

“Poor Mr. Perowne!” said Mrs. Bolter one afternoon, as she sat 
talking to Gray Stuart, and discussing the terrible state of his affairs, 
of which the merchant made no secret ; “ it will be a sad downfall for 
them ; but there, there, merchants fall and rise again very quickly, an.*l 

let’s hope all will come right in the end Wasn’t that the doctor’s 

step, my dear ? ” 

“ No,” said Gray, quietly, as she tried to look free from uneasiness. 

“ I wish we could get some news, my dear,” sighed Mrs. Bolter. 

“ All in good time,” said Gray, looking happier than she felt. “ AVe 
shall hear soon.” 

“I — I hope so, my dear,” sighed Mrs. Bolter; “but it is very sad to 
be a wife, waiting as I wait.” 

“But with patience now,” said Gray, smiling. “You are happy now 
in your mind ? ” 

“ Ye — s I Oh ! yes, I am now, my dear ; and I will never let such 
thoughts gain an entrance again.” 

“ I know you will not,” said Gray, leaning towards her to lay her 
hand upon the little lady’s arm, in token of gentle sympathy, for the 
tears were in Mrs. Bolter’s eyes, and she showed in pallor how deeply 
she was feeling the absence of husband and brother. 

That day the little station appeared as it were asleep in the hot sun- 
shine, and the silence was oppressive in the extreme. One of the 


S24 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


Blalays, who seemed to take an interest in M!rs. Bolter, consequent upon 
his haying been cured by_ the doctor of a very dangerous complaint, had 
been started up the river in his boat, to see if he could learn 
any news of the party, and this messenger was anxiously expected 
back. 

“I can’t help it, raj dear,” said Mrs. Bolter, turning to Gray, after 
some hours’ silence, “ I can’t help thinking that something serious is 
wrong. Oh ! how shocking it would be to be deprived of our pro- 
tectors ! ” 

“ But Dr. Bolter has been away for longer at a time than this, has ho 
not?” said Gray, as she sat there, wondering whether the officers of 
the expedition were safe — above all. Captain Hilton. 

“Yes, my dear,” said the little lady, with a sigh; “he has been 
away longer before now; but no news of my brother — no news of 
him — it is very hard to bear.” 

“No, no, no,” whispered Gray, passing a soft arm round her neck ; 

“ try and bo patient — try and think hopefully of everything. We must 
be patient at a time like this.” 

“ But you cannot feel as I do, my dear,” cried Mrs. Bolter. “ You 
have friends away, but not one whom you dwell upon as I do.” 

Gray’s eyes wore a very piteous aspect, but she said nothing, only 
did battle with a sigh, which conquered and fought its way from her 
labouring breast. 

“ But I am trying, Gra}’-, my darling,” said the little woman, drying 
her eyes; “you know how patient I have been, and how I have taken 
your advice. Not one allusion have I made to the.Inche Mai da since 
you talked to me as you did. Now, have I not been patient ? ” 

“You have indeed,” said Gray, smiling at her sadly. 

“ And I’m going to take your advice thoroughly, for I’m beginning 
to think that the little girl I began by patronizing has grown wiser 

than I. There, you see, I have dried my eyes, and Bless my 

heart, here is Mr. Stuart, and he will see that I have been crying.” 

She jumped up and ran out of the room as the little merchant came 
to the door, and entered without ceremony. 

“ Well, Gray, my bairnie,” he said, as she kissed him affectionately, 
while, as soon as he had drawn back, he took out his broad kerchief to 
dab his brow, and seemed to wipe the kiss carefully away. 

“ You have news, father ? ” cried Gray, eagerly. “ Pi’ay speak ! ” 

“Well, don’t hurry me, child,” he replied. “I’ve just come from 
the landing-stage— and I’ve seen that Malay fellow, Syed— and he says 
the expedition is coming back. ” 

“ Coming back, father? Oh ! why did you not speak before ? ” 

“ Syed has just come down with the stream. The water’s low and 
they’ve got aground a few miles up, but they expected to be afloat 
soon.” 

“But is anyone hurt, father? Have they found Helen? Pray — 
pray speak ! ” 

“ Only a few of the men a bit hurt, it seems. Officers all right,” 
said the old man, speaking very coolly, and consequently in excellent 
English. 


HELP IN NEED. 


325 


“ But Helen ? Have they found Helen ? ” 

“It seems not, from what the fellow knew,” said the merchant, 
coolly. “ Where’s Mrs. Bolter ? ” he said, in a low voice. 

Gray’s heart seemed to stand still. 

“ Oh ! father ! ” she sighed, “ is he hurt? ’* 

“No ; he’s aboard,” replied the merchant. “ But where is she ? ” 

“ She left the room as you came in ; but why do you not speak out ? ’ 

“I was thinking o’ Mrs. Bolter, my dear. Isn’t she a bit— you know 
—jealous, lassie ? ” 

“Don’t ask mo such questions, father,” cried Gray, in a low voice. 
“ What do you mean ? ” 

“I’m thinking she’ll be a bit put out if it is as I hear.” 

“ Why, father ? ” crid Gray, as her mind filled with strange imagina- 
tions. “But tell me quickly,” she whispered, “is Mr. Chumbley 
safe?” 

“ Yes, yes,” said old Stuart ; “ he’s safe enough, lassie.” 

“ And — and ” 

“The Resident? Yes ; he’s well.” 

“But father, you — you have have not told me about Captain Hilton.” 

“ Hilton ? Oh, ay, he’s all well ! Hang it if here isnT that Barlow 
woman ! I left her at the landing-place pumping Syed.” 

As he finished speaking, Mrs. Barlow, panting, hot, and excited, half 
ran into the room. 

“ No news— no news of poor Mr. Rosebury ! ” she cried ; “ but oh, 
my dear Mrs. Bolter — my dear Mrs. Bolter ! ” 

“What is it — what is it?” cried that lady, opening the door, and 
entering the room, trembling visibly. “You’ve brought me some 
terrible news I I know you have ! Speak to me — speak directly I ” 

“ Yes, yes, my dear : but try and bear it with fortitude.” 

“Yes, I will,” she panted. “ My brother — is dead ! ” 

“ No, no,” sobbed Mrs. Barlow ; “ there is no news of him ; but the 
Malay has told me all ! ” 

“ All ? All what ? ” cried Mrs. Bolter. 

“ They found Doctor Bolter at the Inche Maida’s.” 

“ I knew it 1 ” cried Mrs. Bolter, excitedly. 

* ‘ And he and the Inche Maida have been up one of the little rivers 
in his boat, and the officers caught them, and brought them back.” 


CHAPTER LXXXL 

HELP IN NEED. 

Ip little Mrs, Bolter had seen her lord — the quiet, suave medical man, 
who by his genuine admiration had so late in life won her heart — she 
would have trembled with the idea that he was about to fall down in a 
fit of apoplexy. For as he realized who was the showily-dressed Malay 
who had taken Helen Perowne in his arms, he first turned sallow with 
the heart-sinking sensation consequent upon seeing his helpless charge 


326 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


in the hands of one who, spite of his assumption of English manners 
and customs, remained at heart a fierce and unscrupulous savage. 

But the next moment the pallor passed away, his face flushed with 
rage, and as his indignation increased, he became absolutely purple. 

He made a furious struggle to escape from those who held him and 
to get to Helen’s side ; for in those angry moments his English blood was 
on fire, and little, stout, short-winded, and pretty well exhausted by 
previous efforts as he was, he forgot everything but the fact that there 
was a helpless girl — an English lady — in deadly peril, and asking his 
aid. Numbers — personal danger — his own want of weapons — all were 
forgotten ; and the little doctor would have attempted anything then 
that the bravest hero could have ventured to save Helen Perowne from 
her captors. 

But it was not to be : one man, howeveri brave, when left to his 
natural strength of arm, is as nothing against a score ; and literally 
foaming now with rage. Doctor Bolter, as he was mastered by the 
Sultan’s men, had nothing left but his tongue for weapon, and this — 
let him receive justice — he used to the best of his power while Murad 
remained on deck. 

Dog, coward, reptile, contemptible villain, disgrace to humanity, 
fiend in human form, scoundrel whom he would kick — these and scores 
of similar opprobrious terms the doctor applied to the Rajah, making 
the crew of the prahu scowl and mutter, and draw their krises in a 
threatening manner, as they looked at Murad for orders to slay the 
infidel dog who dared revile their chief. 

But in his calm triumph Murad stood gazing in a sneering, irritating 
way at the doctor, speaking no word, but seeming to say — so the doctor 
interpreted it: 

“ Curse and rail as you will, I have won, and no words of yours can 
hurt me.” 

“Will nothing move you, dog that you are ? ” cried the doctor. 
“ Oh, if I had but my liberty I ” and his rage increased to such a pitch 
that his anger approached the ridiculous, for, failing English terms, he 
turned round and swore at the Rajah in Latin, in French, and finally 
rolled out a scries of ponderous German oaths garnished with many- 
syllabled adjectives. 

Murad seemed moved at last, and after calmly walking to and fro the 
bamboo deck, he suddenly turned upon the doctor. 

“ Silence, English dog 1 ” he hissed ; “ or my men shall kris you, and 
throw you out ! ” 

“Dog yourself!” roared the doctor. “Oh! if I had you sick in 
bed for twenty-four hours ! I’d ” 

“Silence !’’ roared Murad, fiercely, for he noted the ominous looks 
of his men, and felt that if he did not resent these insults ho would bo 
losing caste amongst them ; and as he spoke ho struck the doctor — 
bound and helpless as ho was as to his hands, and held by a couple of 
the prahu’s crew — a violent blow across the mouth. 

The doctor’s lip was cut, and the blood trickled down his chin as 
the Rajah turned contemptuously from him, and then staggered head 
first, and finally fell prone upon his face. For it was the only rotalia- 


HELP IS SEED. 


tioa ia Doctor Bolter’s pover aad he rook it : as tka Kajah turned, the 
doctor threw all the strength he had left into one tremendous kick, as 
a scoundrel should be kicked, and the above was the result. 

Furious with rage the Kajah struggled to his feet, whipped out his 
kris and dashed at the prisoner ; but just then there was a warning 
shout, aud a small sampan that had been coming rapidly down 
‘■tream hitched on to the prahu, and one of the oconpants climbed on 
board. 

He ran to the Rajah, and said something in a low voice which ma ie 
Murad turn colour ; and hastilv thrusting his kris back in its sheath, 
he began to issue orders to his crew. 

“ I’m glad he didn't kill me,” muttered the doctor; “Fm glad for 
Mary’s sake; but Fn not sorry I kicked the villain all the Sivme. 
What are they about to do now ? ” 

He soon learned, for the Saltan’s orders resulted ia the prahu’s crew 
imitating his boatmen’s manmuvre, running her close in to the bonk and 
under the shelter of the broad, overhanging boughs, the place being so 
well suited that even the Large naga was entirely concealed. 

.\s soon as these plans were being carried out, the doctor had been 
hurried — ia spite of some resistance— into the after-part of the boat, 
where he was roughly thrown down upon the deck ; but he knew from 
what was being done that help must close a: hand — and help of a 
substantial nature, or else the occupants of this large and well-armed 
cruft would not have hidden and left the river clear. 

“Perhaps,” he t'nought, “it may be meant as an ambush, and some 
of our friends are running the risk of capture.” 

He felt lightened though at heart> and lay perfectly still — not in 
obedience to his captors, but to listen as he gazed struig’nt up at the 
leaves and boughs above his head. 

The time went on, and from being red hot with passion the doctor 
began to cool down; his heart hud ceased to bound, and the burnirg 
sensation ia his temples became less painful He wondered where they 
had placed Helen, then whether there was any boat coming down the 
river; and at lust, so still was everybody, so silent the leafy arctide, 
that the doctor’s narurul history proclivities began to be even then 
aroused. 

For as he lay there upon his back, first one and then another brilliant 
fiy came and darted about through the network of snurays ; while soon 
after there was a beautiful bird perched upon a twig not tea feet from 
his face, where he could see the varied tinting of its feathers. Then, 
as it fiew oil, he mw what had alarmed it, and that it was not the crew 
of the boat, but first one and then another, till there were quite half a 
doreu monkeys of an extremely rare kind climbing and playing ab^ut 
ia the branches of one of the biggest trees. Then came close to him a 
wonderfully-tinted parroquet, and then a lustrous sunbird began to 
d.art about in an open space. 

If I only had my gun,” muttered the enthusList ; and then he was 
listening intently to the beat of cars. 

The doctor’s thoughts were interrupted the next moment by some one 
kneeling down beside him, and he saw the gleaming eyes and white 


328 


ONE jMAID’S mischief. 


teeth of Murad, who drew the doctor’s attention to a bare kris which 
he held in his hand, and then pointed at his prisoner. 

“ Look ! ” he whispered ; “ if you make a sound while that boat goes 
by, I shall kill you as I would a dog ! ” 

“ Thankye,” said the doctor, quietly ; and he lay still thinking. 

There was help coming— help for him and fer the poor girl whom 
he had sworn to protect. If he let that help go by he would be resign- 
ing Helen Perowne to a fate worse than death ; and growing enthu- 
siastic as he thought, he mused on, telling himself that he was an 
Englishman and very brave, and that he’d die sooner than not make an 
effort to save the poor girl in his charge. 

Then he shuddered as he thought of death, and felt that he would 
like to live longer at any cost, and that ho dare not risk his life ; but 
directly after he began comforting himself with the idea that if matters 
came to the worst, and he did call for help, the chances were great 
against Murad striking him in a vital place. 

“ And I can cure a wound,” he muttered ; “ and as to poison on those 
krises, it’s an old woman’s tale.” 

All this time the sound of the oars had come nearer and nearer, till 
to the doctor they seemed to be just abreast. 

But no ; they were still coming nearer, and his heart began to beat 
furiously, as, taking advantage of Murad’s head being turned, the doctor 
freed his hands from their bonds and then lay thinking. 

Should he risk it ? Should he give it up ? 

Life was very sweet. So was honour; and that poor girl had 
claimed his protection. 

“ And how could I look her father in the face if I did not try ray 
best to save her ? ” h.e thought. 

Still the sound of oars came nearer — heat, heat — heat, heat ; and now 
he knew that the boat must be nearly abreast — so plainly did the 
plashing sound. 

He looked up at Murad, who, kris in hand, was listening and watch- 
ing together. Ho glanced at the dull-hued wavy blade, and saw its 
keen point and edge, thinking with a kind of curiosity how wide a 
wound it would make in him as he recollected how many he had cured 
for the men who had been in engagements ; and then he asked the 
question again : 

“ Should he risk his life for Helen’s sake ? ” 

The sound of the oars was louder than ever ; and now he knew that 
the boat must be really abreast — and an English one too — otherwise 
why this hiding and the Rajah’s anxious look ? 

“Not only for Helen’s sake, but as an Englishman’s duty,” he said 
to himself ; and he drew a long breath. 

“ Help ! ” he roared, “ help ! boat ah ” 

He would have said Ahoy !” but with a snarl like that of a wild 
cat, Murad threw himself upon his prisoner, striking savagely at his 
breast with the keen weapon, to pin him to the naga’s bamboo deck. 

But with the effort of a man striving to save his life, the doctor 
managed to wrench himself a little on one side, and the keen kris 
passed between his breast and arm as he seized the Rajah by the throat. 


THE RETURN TO SINDANO. 


S29 


TLe struggle that followed was almost a matter of moments, beforo 
Doctor Bolter went over the side, plunging down into deep water, and 
rising outside the screen of leaves, to swim vigorously towards the 
English boat, which was coming rapidly tow'ards where the Rajah’s 
naga lay. 

A spear splashed into the water by the doctor’s head, but the 
boughs prevented the thrower from taking a good aim; and almost 
directly after the swimmer was hauled on board, and the Rajah’s naga 
was seen to be trying to steal out some fifty yards ahead. 

A call to surrender was answered by a shout of defiance, and the 
Malays began to manfully ply their oars ; but a volley from the 
soldiers’ pieces seemed to quell their ardour and to cause confusion, in 
the midst of which the English boat dashed alongside, and Hilton, 
Chumbley, the Resident, and a score of the soldiers poured over the 
side, driving the spear-armed crew below, the Rajah going down from 
a cut over the forehead from the Resident’s sword. 

The naga was mastered ; and the doctor, hunting out where Helen 
had been placed, she was soon afterwards sobbing in her father’s arms. 


CHAPTER LXXXII. 

THE RETUEN TO SIKDAKO. 

Fob a time no one spoke in the doctor’s cottage ; but old Stuart took 
a very large and a very loud pinch of snuff, which seemed as if he 
had been loading his nose with powder, for it went off directly after 
with a report-like sneeze that made the jalousies rattle. 

“ Is — is this — these words — are they true ? ” said Mrs. Bolter, at 
last, with unnatural calmness. 

“ Yes, yes, my dear, quite true ! ” cried Mrs. Barlow, excitedly. 

Did — did you hear anything of this, Mr. Stuart ? ” said Mrs. 
Bolter, in a low, constrained voice. 

“ Well, I did hear am I to tell you ? ” 

«« Yes— everything,” replied Mrs. Bolter, now perfectly cool and 
calm. 

“ I heard that the doctor had been found up the river somewhere 
with a black lady in his boat ; but 1 didn't hear it was the luche 
Maida.” 

“ But my heart told me it was,” muttered . poor little Mrs. Bolter, 
whose good resolutions were all swept away by her agonizing feeling 
of jealousy. Then aloud, with a fierce look of anger, but speaking in 
quite a hoarse whisper, “ Go ! ” she said, pointing to the door. “ You 
wicked woman, go ! You have taken delight in coming to tell me this ! ” 

“No, no!” cried Mrs. Barlow, bursting into tears; “it was from 
friendship— from the sisterly love I have for you ! It was for your 
brother’s sake 1 ” 

“ If— if ever my brother returns, he shall never speak to you— bad, 
weak, wicked woman that you are I D^ave my house ! ” 


230 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ But, Mrs. Bolter — dear Mrs. Bolter ” 

“ Leave my house ! ” continued the little woman in the same low, 
excited whisper ; and she seemed to advance so menacingly upon the 
merchant’s widow, that she backed to the door in alarm, and regularly 
fled. 

“ Dear Mrs. Bolter ” began Gray. 

“ Don’t speak to me, my dear,” said the little lady, “ I’m not at all 
angry. I’m perfectly calm. There, you see how quiet I am. Not 
the least bit in a passion.” 

Certainly she was speaking in a low, passionless voice, but there 
was a peculiar whiteness in the generally rather florid face. 

“ But the news may not be true,” pleaded Gray; “ and even if it is, 
W'hat then ? Oh, Mrs. Bolter, pray think ! ” 

“Yes, my dear,” -.said the little lady, “I have thought, and I’m 
quite calm. I shall suffer it, though, no more. I shall wait till my 
dear brother is found, and then I shall go straight back to England. 
I shall go by the first boat. I will pack up my things at once, and 
get ready. You see I am quite calm. Mr. Stuart, you have always 
been very kind to me.” 

“ Well, I don't know, not verra,” said the old Scot ; “ but ye’ve been 
verra good to Gray here.” 

“ I’m going to ask a favour of you, Mr. Stuart.” 

“ Anny thing I can do for ye, Mrs. Bolter, I will.” 

“ Then will you give me shelter with Gray here for a few weeks ? ” 

“ Or a few months or years if ye like,” said the old man, taking a 
liberal pinch of snuff ; “ but ye needn’t fash yourself. You won’t leave 
Harry Bolter.” 

“ Not leave him? ” said the little lady, with forced calmness. 

“Not you, for I don’t believe there’s aught wrong. It’s a bit 
patient he’s found up the river, and if it isn’t, it’s somebody else ; and 
even if it wasn’t, ye’d just give him a bit o’ your mind, and then you’d 
forgive him.” 

“ Forgive him ? ” said Mrs. Bolter ; “ I was always suspicious of 
these expeditions.” 

“Always,” assented old Stuart. “He has told me so a score of 
times.” 

“ Then more shame for him ! ” cried Mrs. Bolter. “ How dare he ! 
No, Mr. Stuart, I am not angry, and I shall not say a word; but 
I .shall wait till my poor brother is found, and/ then go back to 
England.” 

She sat down very quietly, and sat gazing through the window; 
while old Stuart went on taking snuff in a very liberal manner, glanc- 
ing from time to time at the irate little lady, to whom Gray kept 
whispering and striving to bring her to reason. 

This went on for a good hour, till Gray was in despair ; when sud- 
denly Mrs. Bolter sprang to her feet, red now with excitement, as she 
pointed through the window. 

“Am I to bear this?” she said, in the same whisper. “Look, 
Gray ! Look, Mr. Stuart I You see ! He is coming home, and he is 
bringing this woman with him ! ” 


THE RETURN TO SINDANG. 


331 


Gray started, for there indeed was the doctor, leading a closely- 
veiled Malay lady, apparently Avalking slowly and leaning heavily upon 
his arm. 

Old Stuart took another pinch of snuff, and made a good deal of 
Eoise over it, as a cynical smile began to dawn upon his face ; and he 
watched litMe Mrs. Bolter, who drew herself up and stood with one 
hand resting upon the back of a chair. 

‘ ‘ What can I say to her ? ” murmured Gray to herself. Then softly 
to Mrs. Bolter: 

‘ ‘ Pray listen to him : it is only some mistake. 

“Yes, my dear, I will listen,” said Mrs. Bolter, calmly; and then 
she drew a long catching breath, and her eyes half closed. 

Just then the doctor threw open the door, and carefully led in his 
companion. 

“ Ah, Gray, you here ! ” ho cried. “ Back again, Mary, my love ! 
I’ve brought you a surprise.” 

Ho dropped his companion’s hand, and she stood there veiled and 
swaying slightly, while he made as if to embrace his wife. 

“ Hallo ! ” he exclaimed, as she shrank away. 

“ Don’t — don’t touch me,” she cried, in a low, angry voice, “ never 
again, Bolter ; I could not bear it ! ” 

“ Why, what the Oh, I see ! Of course ! Ha, ha, ha ! ” 

Mrs. Bolter stared at him fiercely, then at his companion, as in a 
curious, hasty way, she tore away her veil with trembling hands, re- 
vealing the swarthy skin and blackened and filed teeth, seen between 
her parted lips; her hair dark as that of the Inche Maida, and 
fastened up roughly in the Malay style. She was trying to speak, for 
her bosom M’as heaving, her hands working ; and at last she darted 
an agonizing glance at Gray Stuart, who was trembling in wonderment 
and fear. 

The next moment the stranger had thrown herself at Mrs. Bolter’s 
feet, and was clinging to her dress, as she cried hysterically : 

“ Mrs. Bolter — Gray — have pity on me ! You do not know ? ” 

“ Helen ! ” cried Gray ; and she flung her arms round her school- 
fellow, as Mrs. Bolter uttered that most commonplace of common 
expressions — 

“ Oh ! my goodness, gracious me ! ” 

“Yes, Helen Perowne it is, my dears,” said the little doctor, rubbing 
his hands with satisfaction. “ I think I found Solomon’s Ophir this 
time, eh ? ” 

“ Henry ! — Henry ! ” panted Mrs. Bolter ; “ what does this mean ? 

“ Mean ? That you haven’t given me a kiss, my dear ! Never mind 
the company. That’s better,” he cried, as he took the kiss— audibly. 

“ But you don’t explain, Henry.” 

“ Explain, my dear,” said the doctor, softly, as he pointed to where 
Helen lay with her face buried in Gray Stuart’s breast. “ Nothing to 
explain ; only that I was up one of the rivers and found the lost one 
here before the expedition came. But didn’t I say so, Stuart, old 
fellow ? It was Murad, after all.” 

A low moan from Helen made Mrs. Bolter dart towards her. 


£32 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Oh ! my child, my child ! and to come back to us like this ! ” cried 
Mrs. Bolter, helping Gray to place Helen upon the couch, the tears 
ruuning down her cheeks the while; and all dislike to the station 
beauty seeming to have passed away as she took the swarthy head to 
her bosom, and knelt there, rocking herself softly to and fro. 

“Can we do anything to help, doctor?” said old Stuart, in a 
whisper, 

“No: k-t ’em all have a good cry together. Nature’s safety valve, 
old fellow,” said the doctor, coolly. 

“ Then I propose that we just go and leave ’em. What do you say 
tc a pipe in the surgery ? ” 

“ And a cool draught of my own dispensing, eh ? ” said the doctor, 
with his eyes twinkling. “ One moment, and wo will.” 

“ But where’s Perowne ? ” 

“Upset! Lying down on board the naga, and too ill to come. I 
brought her on to the women as soon as I could.” 

He trotted across to his wife. 

“That’s right, little woman ! ” he said, squeezing Mrs. Bolter’s arm. 
“ You’ll be a better doctor now than I. She’s very weak and low, 
and ” he whispered something in her ear. 

Poor little Mrs. Bolter turned up her face towards him with a look 
full of such horror, misery and contrition that he was startled ; but set- 
ting it down to anxiety on Helen’s behalf he whispered to her that all 
would soon be well.i 

“Take her up to the spare room, dear,” he said, in a whisper, 
“ You must not think of sending her home. You’ll do 3 'Our best, eh ? ” 

“ Oh ! yes, Henry,” she said, as she looked at him again so piteously 
that he forgot Gray’s presence, and bent down and kissed her. 

“ That’s my own little woman, I knew you would,” he said. “ I 
don’t think you’ll w’ant me ; but if you do, I’m in the surgery. 'Well, 
little Gray, what do you w^ant — news ? ” 

Gray’s lips said “ yes ” without a sound. 

“ Well, everybody’s all right except a few scratches, and I’m choked 
wdth thirst.” 

Five minutes after he was compounding draughts for himself and the 
old merchant from a large stone bottle and a^ua distil, as the druggists 
call it ; while soon after, over what he called a quiet p>ipo, ho told his 
adventures to his friend. 

It was just about the time when, as Helen’s swarthy head lay upon 
the cool white pillow in the bungalow spare room, Mrs. Bolter poured 
some cool clear water into a basin, and then dropped in it a goodly 
pcirtion of aromatic vinegar, W'hieh with a sponge she softly applied 
to Helen 6 fevered brow. 

Gray held the basin and a white towel, wdiile Mrs. Bolter applied the 
sponge once — twice — thrice — and the weary, half-fainting girl uttered 
a low moan. 

Again Mrs. Bolter applied the cool soft sponge to the aching temples, 
and then, as there was no result but another restful sigh, interrupted 
this time by a sob, she applied the sponge again after a careful wringing 
out, still with no effect but to bring forth a sigh. 


NEIL IIAKLEY’S PEOPHECY. 


3S3 


This time poor Mrs. Bolter, who had learned nothing from her lord, 
took the towel, for she could not resist the temptation, and softly drew 
it across Helen’s brow, as the poor girl lay there with closed eyes. 

The towel was raised from the swarthy forehead, and Mrs. Bolter 
looked at it, to see that it was white as it was before. 

This time she exchanged a look of horror with Gray, down whose 
cheeks the tears flowed fast, as she leant forward and "kissed Helen’s 
lips. 

“ No, no, don’t touch me,” she moaned, but Gray held her more tightly. 

The sobs came fast now as two dark arms Avcre flung round Gray’s 
white neck, and 3Irs. Bolter’s eyes grew wet as well, as she drctr a long 
breath, and then sat down by the bedside, saying, softly ; 

“ Oh ! ray poor girl ! — my poor girl !” 

Helen heard it as she felt Gray’s kisses on her lips ; and as she 
realized that there was no longer cause for dread as to the reception she 
would receive, her tears and sobs increased for a time, but gradually to 
subside, till at last she lay there sleeping peacefully — the &st sleep of 
full repose that she had slept since the eventful night of the /(,"/!<?. 

It was not to last, though, for when, an hour later, the doctor camo 
softly up, and laid a Anger upon one throbbing wrist, his brow con- 
tracted, and he shook his head. 

“ Is there danger, doctor ? ” whispered Gray, softly, startled as she 
was by his manner. 

“I fear so,” he whispered; “she has gone through terrible trials; 
fever is developing fast, and in her condition I tremble for vrhat may 
be the end.” 


CHAPTER LXXXIII. 

NEIL IIAULEy’s PROPHECY. 

Tub circumstances wore so grave, that directly after the return of the 
Resident’s boat with the prisoners and the captured naga, special com- 
munication was sent to the seat of the Straits Government, and pending 
a reply to the despatch, the Residency island was placed thoroughly in 
a state of defence. 

The Europeans in Sindang held themselves in perfect readiness to 
flee to the island for safety at a moment’s notice ; and every man went 
armed, and every lady went about as a walking magazine of cartridges, 
ready for the use of husband or friend. ^ ^ 

They were troublous times, full of anxieties, without taking into con- 
sideration the cares of the sick in body and mind. 

The prisoners were secured in the little fort on the island, where 
Murad preserved a sulky dignity, remaining perfectly silent ; and when- 
ever an attempt was made to question him about the chaplain, he 
either closed his eyes, stared scornfully at his questioners, or turned 

his back. i 

Rigid watch and ward was kept, the men s pouches were filled with 
ball-cartridges, and every one fully expected an attack from the people 


334 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


of Siudang, to rescue their Sultan, and avenge the insult of his being 
placed in captivity. 

Among other preparations, the doctor set Mrs. Bolter to work to 
scrape linen for lint in case of the demand exceeding the official supply ; 
but somehow the days glided on, and there was no need for it, not a 
shot being fired, not a kris or spear used. The people ashore looked 
gloomy and taciturn, but offered no violence. 

On the contrary, they seemed disposed to make advances to the 
daring, conquering people, who had not scrupled to seize their chief and 
keep him confined — they, a mere handful of people amongst thousands. 

The fact was, they were completely cowed, knowing, as they did, 
how easily help could bo procured, and how formidable that help 
would be. 

But the English at the station could not realize this. They only 
knew that they were dwelling upon a volcano which might at any time 
burst forth and involve them in destruction ; the military portion 
feeling certain that sooner or later an attempt would bo made to rescue 
the Eajah. 

The days glided by, and the topics of conversation remained the same 
— another week had passed and there had been no attack. 

How was Miss Perowne — had anyone seen her ? 

Was she never to be “ Fair Helen ” again ? 

Was it true that the Eajah had made a daring attempt to escape ? 

Had the Inche Maida sworn to rescue him, and was she coming down 
the river like a now Boadicea, with a hundred water war-chariots to 
Bweep the British invader from the land ? 

Was Helen Perowne dying, and had Mr. Perowne died in the night ? 

These are specimens of the questions that were asked, for the little 
community was in a perfect ferment. The loveliness of the weather, 
the brilliant days and delicious nights passed unnoticed, for everyone 
was intent on danger alone. 

It was, then, a matter of intense relief to hear, time after time, that 
the inanufactured dangers were merely the fictions of some of the most 
timid ; and though the rumour was again and again repeated that the 
Inche Maida was coming, she did not come, but remained quiescent at 
her home, truth to say, though, with boats manned and armed, not for 
attack, but ready to take her and her chief people to a place of safety, 
should the English visit her with inimical intent. She had sinned 
against them, and could not knowhow chivalrously Chumbley had kept 
the matter secret and prevailed upon his friend. 

Meanwhile, in the midst of these anxieties, when rumour ran riot 
through the place, and the more nervous shivered and started at every 
sound, and took no step without feeling that a kris was ready to strike, 
Helen — ^the main cause of all the station troubles — lay happily uncon- 
scious of what was passing. 

For Doctor Bolter W'as right : the excitement had borne its seeds, and 
afterher system had bravely battled with disease for a time, fighting it 
back during all the most trying of her-ad ventures — no sooner was she in 
safety at the station, than it claimed its own, and she lay now at the 
doctor’s cottage sick unto death. 


NEIL HARLEY’S PROPHECY. 


335 


Never had sufferer more devoted attention than that which Helen 
received from her old school-fellow and Mrs. Bolter ; while the doctor 
himself was in almost constant attendance, watching each change, and 
denying himself rest in his efforts to save the life that seemed to be 
trembling in the balance. 

“ This is a pleasant place to have brought you to, Mary,” he said, 
more than once. “ It was a shame ! but I never could foresee s\ich 
troubles as this ; and after all, I am not so very sorry.” 

Not sorry ? ” she replied. 

‘‘ Well, of course, my dear, I am awfully sorry about the way in 
which Arthur is missing ; but as to mA’^self, one does get very selfish in 
middle-age.” 

“ Selfish ? Is this a time to talk of being selfish ? ” said the little 
lady, reproachfully. 

“ Well, perhaps not,” the doctor replied ; “ but really I’m glad I’ve 
got you here, Mary, for I don’t know what I should have done 
without you. You’re a perfect treasure.” 

Mrs. Doctor looked pacified, and worked harder than ever. 

“ Here, I generally bring you bad news,” said old Stuart, coming in 
one day to see his nurse, as he called Gray, who had become a per- 
manent dweller at the cottage, “but I’ve got some good for you this 
time.” 

“ What is it ? ” said the doctor. “ Have they found Rosebury ? ” 

“ No ; but you need not be so nervous any more, for here is a gun- 
boat coming up the river.” 

Boom ! 

“There it is announcing itself,” said old Stuart, with a chuckle. 
“ That’s the sort of thing to keep the natives in awe, a groat gun 
like that. ” 

The coming of the powerful war-steamer wdth reinforcements, and n 
tender in the shape of a swift despatch-boat, did act as a repressing 
powxr, and silenced for good any latent ideas of rising against the 
English ; and in obedience to the despatch received by the Resident, 
Murad and a couple of his officers were at once placed on lx)ard under 
a strong guard ; and, w'ithin an hour of the arrival of the steamer 
and the despatch-boat, he was on his way to Singapore to take his 
trial. 

There was no attempt at resistance, the prisoners meeting their fate 
in a stolid, indifferent way, while after a short consultation at the 
Residency, the crew of the Sultan’s boat were brought out from the 
fort and questioned. 

To a man they denied all knowledge of the whereabouts of the 
chaplain; and when offered their liberty on condition of his being 
found, they calmly accepted their position, and expressed their readi- 
ness to go back to prison. 

Harley was the president of the little court ; and at last he addressed 
them, and offered them their liberty on another condition. 

“ Murad will never return here,” he said, “ and you are clear of all 
allegiance to him. I am empowered to offer you your freedom if you 
will all swTar henceforth to serve the English Government.” 

22 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


saG 

They all brightened up at once, and expressed themselves ready to 
obey. 

“ Then you are free,” said the Resident ; “ you can retuni to your 
homes.” 

The men stared. They could not believe in such clemency ; but no 
sooner had they realized the fact, than their stolid, sulky look vras 
exchanged for one of extravagant joy, and their delight after having 
resigned themselves to death knew no bounds. 

“Now,” exclaimed the Resident, “ teil me at once— where is the 
chaplain ? ” 

Only one man spoke : 

“ We do not know, my lord.” 

“ Is— is he dead ? ” 

“ Why should he be dead, my lord ? ” said the man. “ Why should 
Murad kill him? No ; he had reasons, and we know that ho had him 
taken away with the lady — that is all,” 

“ But where did he imprison him ? ” 

Allah and our lord the Sultan only know,” said the man, impressively. 
“ Murad was wise. When ho made plans it was in his own mind, and 
he told them to none but the slaves who wore to do his bidding. 
Let us free, and we may perhaps find the Christian priest. If we do, 
we will bring him back.” 

There was nothing more to be done, and the station was relieved of 
the presence of a danger that seemed imminent so long as Murad was 
there. 

The time glided on, and still there was no new’s of the chaplain. 
The Incho Maida’s home had been visited again and again, but she 
either did not know or would confess nothing, preserving a studied 
dignity, and seeming to be neither friend nor enemy now; while, tliis 
being the case, the chaplain’s absence began to be accepted as a 
necessity, and there were days when Mrs. Barlow was the imly one 
who mourned his loss. 

“It’s mind — mind — mind,” said the doctor, as ho came out of 
Helen’s room, over and over again ; and the questioner he addressed 
was Neil Harley. “ It’s mind, sir, mind ; and until that is at rest, I see 
no chance of her recovery. Medicine ? Bah ! it’s throwing good 
drugs away.” 

The constant attention went on, and as almost hourly the Resident 
or one of the officers came to enquire, there seemed to be times when 
Doctor Bolter did not know whether Helen or her father would bo 
the first to pass away. He was constantly going to and fro ; and 
after many days of suffering, when Sindang had pretty well sunk into 
its normal state of quietude, and Helen’s fever began to subside, it 
left her so weak that the doctor threw up his hands almost in despair. 

“ It lies with you two now, more than with me,” he said to Gray 
and Mrs. Bolter ; and with tears in their eyes, they were compelled to 
own their helplessness as well. 

It was on one of the hottest and most breathless days of the tropin 
summer, that, with her eyes red, and weary with long watching. Gray 
Stuart sat in her old school-companion’s chamber, thinking of the 


NEIL HARLEY’S PROPHECY. 


337 


changes that had taken place since that morning when Helen and 
she were summoned to the Miss Twottenhams’ room regarding the 
levity displayed, as the ladies called it, towards Helen’s first admirer. 

Fair Helen then — now she looked more like a native woman than ever, 
with her piteous great eyes gazing wildly at her friend, as if asking her 
for help. 

But that she had wept till the fount of her tears seemed dry, Gray 
could have thrown herself sobbing at Helen’s side ; now she could only 
take her wasted hand and try to whisper some few comforting words. 

‘ ‘ Has Mr. Rosebury been found ? ” she exclaimed, suddenly ; and on 
being answered in the negative, as she had been fifty times before, she 
wrung her hands and sobbed wildly. 

“ My fault — my cruel fault ! ” she cried, in a weak, high-pitched 
voice ; “ you will all curse me when I am dead.” 

“ My child — my dear child,” sobbed Mi’s. Bolter ; and then, unable to 
contain herself, she hurried from the room, and Gray strove to calm the 
excited girl. She had tended her constantly, telling herself that it was 
a duty ; but the task had been a bitter one, for ever, in the hours of 
Helen’s delirium, she had listened to her wild words as she spoke con- 
stantly of him and his love, reproaching him for not coming to save her 
from Murad, and neglecting her when she was praying for him to 
come. 

Gray felt a pang at every word ; and as Helen spoke in this way, she 
recalled the tender scenes she had witnessed, and the young officer’s 
infatuation with her beauty. 

And now on this particular day her trial seemed to be harder than 
ever, for suddenly Helen turned her w'eary head towards her, and clasp- 
ing her hands with spasmodic energy, she avhispered : 

‘ ‘ Gray, I have been cruel and hard to you I know. I stood between 
you and your love — but you forgive me now ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes, that is all past and gone ! ” cried Gray, excitedly. 

“ Yes, yes, that is all past and gone, and now you will do this for 
me. I think I am going — I cannot live long like this — tell him, then, 
quickly — tell him I must see him — tell him that he must come.” 

• Gray’s heart sank wuthin her, and she rose slowly from her scat, and 
loosed the two thin hands she had held. ^ It was like signing her own 
death-warrant to send this message, for if Captain Hilton did not know 
of her wanderings, and this, Helen’s last wish, he— who was, perhaps, 
forgetting more and more his love— would hardly dwell upon it again. 
To do this was to revive it, for she told herself that Hilton would ke 
too generous not to respond. 

But Gray Stuart was a heroine— one of those women ready at any 
sacrifice of self to do a duty; and she turned to go just as Mrs. Bolter 
entered the room. 

“What is it— what does she want?” whispered the little lady, 
eagerly. 

“Helen wishes to see- ” began Gray, in a choking voice. 

“ Yes, yes, I must— I will see him to humble myself before I die I ” 
moaned Helen. 

“ Will you— send at once,” panted Gray, with her hand pressed upon 


333 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


her side, for she could hardly speak the words — “ send for Captain 
Hilton to come ? ” 

She forced the words from her lips, and then sank back in her chair 
with a blank feeling of misery upon her, to gather force to enable her 
to flee from a house where she told herself that she could no longer 
stay. 

It was but momentary this sensation, and then she uttered a sob, and 
the tears began silently to flow, for she heard Helen say, in a quick, 
harsh, peevish voice : 

“ No, no, you mistake me ! I want Mr. Harley — quick, or — too 
late 1 ” 


CHAPTER LXXXIV. 

THE SUMMONS. 

Neil Harley’s troubles had of late been great. He had gone on striv- 
ing to be matter-of-fact and business-like, telling himself that he must 
bo calm and cool ; but all the same he suffered bitterly. 

It had been a great shock to him, the disappearance of Helen ; and 
though her recovery had followed, it w'as in such a guise that at times 
he felt half maddened, and as if his troubles were greater than ho 
could bear. 

He had loved her from the first ; and though he had laughed at and 
bantered her, treating her numerous flirtations as trifles unworthy of his 
notice, at the same time he had suffered a terrible gnawing at the heart, 
and every glance sent at Hilton — every W'hispered compliment paid to 
her by the handsome young captain — caused him acute pain. 

Time after time he had striven to tear himself from what he 
felt was a hopeless, foolish attachment; and when ho made the 
effort, Helen’s beautiful face rose before him wdth a sly, half-mocking, 
half-reproachful look, and he knew that he was more her slave than 
ever. 

The mishaps that had befallen the various prisoners seemed to recoil 
upon him, to increase his troubles. He felt, as it M'ere, to blame, and 
often asked himself if it was not due to his want of clever management 
that the chaplain had not also been recovered ; but for his comfort 
there were times W'hen he was fain to confess that it would have 
puzzled the cleverest diplomat to have dealt differently with so wdly a 
Malay as Murad, or with his people, who were ready to hide everything 
from the English intruders upon their land. 

“ I ought to bo in better heart,” he said to himself, as he sat thinking 
in his cool room at the Residency ; “ three out of my four lost sheep 
are back, and I have hopes of the fourth. But Helen ? ” 

His face grew contracted and wrinkled as he sat thinking of the 
swarthy face and disfigured mouth of the belle of the station, and 
wondered w'hether, in spite of his declarations to the contrary, there 
was any attachment left between Hilton and the .suffering girl. 

“No,” he said; “none. Hilton is quite honest. His was but a 


THE SUMMONS. 


339 


changing love for the bright, handsome face and deep, dreamy eyes, 
lie does not care for her no w. What man "would ? ” 

There was a pause here, and he sat dreamily gazing through the 
open window at the silver shimmering of the river. 

“ What man Avould love Helen Perowne now ? ” he said, softly ; “ now 
that she comes back Avith such a social stigma upon her, just rescued 
from the hands of this Eastern sensualist — changed ! ah ! how changed ! 
Poor girl — poor girl! What English gentleman would hold out his 
hand to her now, and say to her, ‘ Helen, love ! my OAvn ! Will you 
not be my wife ? ’ ” 

Another pause, broken only by the loud insect-hum from the blossom- 
laden trees outside the window. 

“ What man Avould say this to her now? 

“I AA'Ould ! ” he cried aloud ; “ for is mine so mean and paltry a love 
that it is to be checked and turned aside by her misfortune ? No ; let 
her but ask me — as I said she some day would ask me — with look or lip, 
to come, and I should be at her side— for I so love her, in spite of all, 
and with my Avhole heart ! ” 

For a moment the abject, frightened face that he had for a feAV 
moments seen shrinking from him before its owner concealed it with 
her trembling brown fingers, Avhen she was transferred from the Sultan’s 
to his own boat, was there before him ; when Helen had uttered a loud, 
piteous cry as she recognized one of her deliverers. The next moment 
that scene upon the river, vividly as it was impressed upon his mind, 
Avith the swarthy Malays, the prostrate prince, the brilliant sunshine 
flashing from the river, even as he could see it noAV, and the dark 
shadoAvs of the drooping trees, all had passed away, and in place he saw 
only Helen — the Helen of his loA'e — prostrate upon her bed of sickness, 
dull of eye, shrunken and thin with feA'er, suffering and helpless. And 
as he asked himself, “ Did he love her still ? ” he rested his elbows 
upon his table, his face went doAvn upon his hands, and with a Ioav 
moan he felt that he was cruel and wanting in his love for being away 
from her at a time like this, when he ought to be shoAving her how true 
and fervent was his feeling — that it was no light fancy of the young and 
thoughtless youth, but a strong man’s true and lasting love. 

He did not hear the matting-sci*een drawn aside, nor heed the light 
step of his Chinese servant, as he softly entered the room, and then 
stopped short, as if afraid to interrupt his master as he slept. 

It was an important message, though, that he had to give, and ho 
went up to the table. 

“Master,” he said, softly ; but the Eesident did not move. 

“ Master ! ” said the man again ; but the Resident heard him not, for 
he was dwelling upon the tidings that he had received an hour before, 
that Helen’s case Avas utterly hopeless, and that though she might live 
for days or Aveeks, her recovery was impossible. 

It Avas on good authority that he received those sad tidings, for they 
were from Dr. Bolter’s lips ; and he had to listen, with a composed and 
placid mien, when all the time he had felt as if he could have thrown 
himself upon the floor, and torn himself in the bitterness of his anguish. 

If he could have been all9wed to sit at her pillow, holding one poor 


340 


ONE MAID’S mSCHIEF. 


wasted hand, ho told himself that he could have borne it better, and 
watched her with patient hope. But he was shut out from her resting- 
place — from her heart ! She had never cared for him, and his words 
to her had been but an empty vaunt. And yet he loved her so well, 
that as ho thought of all the past and the bitter present, he felt that 
when Helen died he dared not face the empty present, and something 
seemed to whisper to him, would it not be better to seek in oblivion for 
the rest that his heart told him he should never know. 

“ Master ! ” 

Louder now, and a hand was laid upon his arm. 

The Hesident started up, and gazed angrily at the intruder upon his 
sacred sorrow — so fiercely that the servant shrank away. 

“ What is it ? ” cried the haggard man, harshly. “ Is — is she— 
dead ? ” 

^ “ A messenger, master, from Miss Stuart,” said the man, shivering 
still from the wild face and mien. 

“I knew it ” moaned the Eesident. 

“ To say, w'ill you go directly to the doctor’s house.” 

Neil Harley started from his chair ; and then ho staggered, and 
caught at the table for support. 

“ The heat ! ” he said, huskily — “ giddy ! — a glass — water! ” 

The servant went to a great cooler standing in the draught of the 
window, and fi.lled and brought a glass of the clear, cold fluid. 

“Thanks ! ” said the Eesident, drinking feverishly, and recovering 
himself. “ Who brought the message ? ” 

“ Yusuf, the Malay. His boat waits,” replied the man ; and making 
an effort to be calm, the Eesident took up his sun-hat, and walkeil 
firmly down to the landing-stage, where he was ferried across, and 
then walked up to the doctor’s cottage, overtaking Hilton on the 
way. 

“You going there? ” he said. 

“ Yes,” replied Hilton. “I was going up to ask how Miss Perowno 
was now. Were you going there ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the Eesident, bitterly ; “I was going there. Were you 
sent for too ? ” 

“I? No; it was not likely. Pray disabuse your mind, Harley, of 
all such thoughts as that I There is nothing between Miss Perowno 
and me.” 

“ Not now that she is in misery and distress ! ” retorted the Eesident, 
and his voice sounded almost savage in its reproach. 

Hilton flushed angrily. 

“ Your reproaches are unjust,” he said. “ You know that Miss Per- 
owne never cared for me, and that I was too weak and vain not to see 
it earlier than I did. Harley, I will not quarrel, for I esteem you too 
well. We ought to be good friends.” 

“ And we are,” said the Eesident. “ Forgive me for what 1 have 
said ! ” 

He held out his hand which the other pressed warmly. 

“I’m an outsider I ” said Hilton, bitterly, in turn. “I’m going to 
set up for my friend’s friend. I shall be best man to Chumbley when 


THE SUMMONS. 


341 


he marries Miss Stuart ; and so I shall to you, for I believe you will 
marry Helen Perowne after all.” 

Silence, man I ” cried the Ecsident, harshly. “ I have been sent 
Cor by Miss Stuart. Her friend is dying, I am sure, perhaps it is best I” 
Hying ! ” cried Hilton, 

** Yes ! Are yon surprised after what the doctor has said ? ” 

“I am,” said Hilton; “for I had hopes after all. Let us make 
haste.” 

The Resident glanced at him quickly, for Hilton’s words even then 
caused him a jealous pang ; but there was nothing but honest commis- 
eration there ; and they walked on hastily to the doctor’s door. 

Dr. Bolter himself met them, looking very grave, and the faint hope 
that had been struggling in Neil Harley’s breast died out. 

The doctor saw the question in each of his visitors’ eyes, and 
answered, hastily : 

“ No : I don’t think there is immediate danger, but She expressed 

a wish to see you, Harley.” 

That bnt, and the way in which he finished his sentence, spoke 
volumes. An invalid in a dangerous state expressing a wish to see 
some one in particular ! It was like the cold chill of death itself seem- 
ing near. 

“You may go in, Harley,” said the doctor. “My wife and Miss 
Stuart are there.” 

The Resident hesitated for a moment. Then drawing a long breath, 
he walked through the drawing-room, and into Helen’s bedroom, seeing 
nothing but the thin swarthy face upon the white pillow, about which 
was tossed her abundant hair. 

Mrs. Bolter rose as he entered, and taking Gray Stuart’s hand, they 
softly moved towards the door, and left the room without a word. 

For a few moments Neil Harley stood there, gazing down at the 
wasted face before him, his very soul looking out, as it were, from his 
eyes, in the intensity of his misery and despair ; while Helen gazed up 
at him now with a saddened and resigned expression of countenance, 
the vanity all passed away, and the dread that he should see her, dis- 
figured as she was, a something of the past. 

“ I sent for you to ask you to forgive me,” she said, in a low, faint 
voice ; but he did not speak. 

“ I know now how weak — how vain I was— how cruel to you ; but 
— but you know — my folly, you will forgive ? ’’ 

He was down upon his knees by her bedside now, and the words 
seemed to be literally torn from his heart as ho groaned : 

“ Helen ! — Helen ! my poor girl ! has it come to this ! ” 

“ Yes ! ” she said, softly , “ it seems like rest ! I am happier now ; 
but I thought — I should like to see you again— to say Good-bye ! ” 

“ No, no, no ! ” he cried, passionately. “ You shall not leave me, 
Helen ! My love — my darling — you shall not die ! ” 

She smiled faintly. . i. , 

“I knew you loved me differently from the rest ! ” she said, softly, 
as he clasped her thin hand and held it to his lips ; “ that is why I 
sent. You said I should send for you— some day.” 


842 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


To ask mo to take you for my Avife,” ho panted ; “ and, Helen, tho 
time has come ! ” 

“ Yes,” she said, softly, “but it was the Helen of tho past; not this 

wreck — this — this Oh, Heaven ! ” she moaned, pjissionately, “ did I 

sin so vilely that you should punish mo like this ? ” 

“ Hush ! hush ! ” he whispered, passing his arm beneath her light, 
too fragile form, and raising her till her head rested upon his breast. 
“ That is all jjnsscd now, and it is not the Helen of tho past I love, 
but she who has sent for mo at last. Helen, darling, speak to me 
again ! ” 

“ Speak ? ” she said, faintly ; “ what should I say, but ask you to for- 
give me, and say good-bye ? ” 

“ Good-bye ? ” he cried, frantically. “ "What, now that I have, as it 
were, begun to live ? ” 

“ One kind, forgiving word,” she said, faintly. 

“ One ? A thousand ! ” he panted ; “ my own — my love ! Leave mo ? 
No, you shall not go ! Is my love for you so weak and poor that I 
should let you go — that I should turn from you in this hour of trial ? 
Helen!” he cried; “I toll you it is not tho Helen of the past I 
love, but you — you, my own ! Tell me that you have turned to me — 
truly turned to me at last, and live to bless me with your love ! ” 

Her lips parted, and she tried to speak, but no w'ords came. Her 
eyes closed, and as ho clasped her more firmly to his breast a faint 
shuddering sigh seemed to fan his cheek. 

“ You shall not die,” he whispered, as he raised her thin arm and 
laid it tenderly round his neck, while his heart throbbed heavily against 
hers ; “ I am strong, and my strength shall give you strength, my 
breath should be yours, Helen, love, were it my last. Take it, darling, 
and breathe and live, my own — my wife — my all ! ” 

As he whispered frantically these words he seemed endued wnth tho 
idea that she would draw life from his strong manliness, and breathe 
it in his breath, as he bent down lower and laid his lips upon hers. 

Then the shuddering sigh came again, and feeble as she was before, 
he felt her relax and sink away ; her arm fell from where it rested on 
his shoulder, and in an agony of dread he stamped upon the floor. 

There was a hurried rush of feet, the door was flung open, and the 
doctor entered the room. 

“ Quick ! ” he cried. “Lay her down, man ! That’s well.” 

“ Is — is she dead ? ” groaned the Resident ; and in an agony of 
remorse and despair he sank back in the chair by the bedside, as he saw 
tlie doctor take one hand in his and lay his other upon his patient’s 
throat. 

“ No,” said Dr. Bolter, shortly. “Fainting. Go away.” 

“ But, Bolter ” protested the Resident. 

“ Be off, man, I tell you ! ” cried the little doctor, angrily, showing 
how thoroughly he was autocrat of the sick room. “Go, and send in 
my wife and Miss Stuart. Or no ; my wife will do.” 

The Resident bent down once over the thin, dark face, and then stole 
softly out of tho room, to And Mrs. Bolter waiting ; and nodding 
quickly, she went in and closed the door. 


MORE MATING. 


343 


*• What news ? ” asked Hilton, eagerly, as he rose from a chair near 
the window. 

“I don’t know — I dare not say,” replied Harley, sinking hopelessly 
into a chair ; and for a time no one spoke. 

It w'as the doctor who broke the silence by coming back from the sick 
room, and this time sending a thrill of hope into the breast of all as he 
began to rub his hands in an apparently satisfied manner, and gazed 
from one to the other. 

“ Is — is she better, doctor ? ” 

“Don’t know! won’t prognosticate ! ” he said, sharply. “I’ll say 
that she’s no worse. Prostrated by mental emotion, but other symp- 
toms at a standstill. If she lives — well, if she lives ” 

“Yes, yes, doctor ! ” cried the Resident, imploringly. 

“ Well, if she lives, I think it will bo from some sudden turn in her 
mental state, for I have done all I know, and of course a man — even a 
medical man — can do no more.” 


CHAPTER LXXXV. 

MORE MATING. 

Slow work — terribly slow work ; but at the end of three days — during 
which at any moment it had seemed as if the light of life would become 
extinct — Helen Perowne still lived, and in place of Gray Stuart or 
Mrs. Bolter, Neil Harley was mostly by her side. 

She suffered still from wild attacks of delirium, and in her wanderings, 
if the firm, strong hand of the Resident was not there to hold her, she 
grew plaintive and fretful, and a look of horror appeared upon her 
wasted face ; but no sooner did she feel Neil Harley’s firm clasp and 
hear his whispered words, than she uttei’ed a sigh of content, and 
dropped always into a placid sleep. 

To his surprise and delight, these words seemed to pacify her; a 
long-drawn sigh came from her breast, and she fell into a restful 
slumber. 

During the rest of the critical time of her illness a few whispered 
words always had the desired effect, and from that hour Helen began 
rapidly to mend. 

“Yes, she is improving fast now,” said the doctor, as he sat beside 
her bed talking, as if he believed his patient to be asleep. “ I shan’t 
take any of the credit, Harley. I should have lost her, I am sure, for 
it was not in physic to do more than I had done. There, I am going 
dowm now to my specimens, to have a look at them, and talk to my 
wife, for I have hardly seen her of late.” 

He rose and left the room, and the Resident took his place, seeing 
that the great dark eyes were fixed upon him, full of a strange, pathetic 
light, that the w'arm evening glow seemed to give an almost super- 
natural effect. 

“You are awake, then ? ” ho said, softly. 




ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Yes ; I heard all that he said, and it is true.” 

“Thank heaven ! ” said the Eesident, fervently, as he took one of 
the thin brown hands from the white coverlet and held it in both of 
his. 

“ I believe it was your tender words that gave me hope,” said Helen, 
softly. “ Now it is time to take them back.” 

“ Take them back ? ” he exclaimed, wonderingly. 

“Yes; take them back. Do you think I could bo so weak and 
cruel as to let you be burdened for life with such a degraded thing as 
I ? ” she cried ; and she burst into so violent a fit of sobbing that 
the Eesident grew alarmed; but he must have possessed wonderful 
soothing power, for when Mrs. Bolter came in a short time after, it was 
to find Helen Perowne’s weary head resting upon Neil Harley’s arm, 
and there was a restful, peaceful look in her eyes that the little lady 
had never seen there before. 

Helen did not move, and the Eesident seemed as if it was quite a 
matter of course for him to remain there, so little Mrs. Bolter went 
softly forward and bent down to kiss her invalid as she called her, 
•when she was prisoned by two trembling weak arms, and for a few 
minutes nothing was heard but Helen’s sobs. 

When Mrs. Bolter went down soon afterwards to sit with the doctor, 
she said, softly : 

“ I never thought I could like that girl, Henry, and now I believe I 
almost love her.” 

“ That’s because she has changed her colour,” said the doctor, with 
a hearty chuckle. 

“ Oh ! that reminds me,” cried Mrs. Bolter ; “ I wanted to ask you 
about that.” 

“About what ? ” said the doctor, looking up. 

“ About the black stain. Will she always be like that ? ” 

“ Pooh, nonsense ! my dear. It is only a stain, which has thoroughly 
permeated, if I may so term it, the outer skin. Soon wear off, my 
dear — soon wear off.” 

“ But her teeth, Henry ? ” 

“ Come right in time, my dear, with plenty of tooth-powder ; all but 
the filing.” 

“ But that is a terrible disfigurement.” 

“Oh, that will gooff in time. The teeth are always gro-wing and 
being worn down at the edges ; but what does it matter ? she is ten 
times as nice a girl as she was before.” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Bolter, thoughtfully; “and now, Henry, if I 
could only have my mind set at rest about Arthur, I believe I should be 
a happy woman.” 

“ Then we’ll soon set your mind at rest about him,” said the doctor. 
“ I never felt that I could leave you till Helen was safe from a relapse.” 

“Leave me, Henry !” cried the little lady. 

** Only for a time, till I have found Arthur.” 

“ Then you do think he will be found ? ” 

I am sure of it. "Why, who would hurt him, the best and most 
inoffensive of men ? ” 


MOEE MATING. 


ii45 


** Surely no one.” said Mrs. Bolter, with a sigh. 

“ Of course not. I’ve tried to get something out of Muiad, but my 
messengers have failed ; but all the same, I feel sure he knows all about 
it, and burked Arthur for a reason of his own.” 

“ But what reason could he have ? ” cried Mrs. Bolter. 

“ Well, ni tell you my theory, my dear, and it is this : He meant 
to silence all Helen’s scruples by marrying her according to our rites.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” 

“ I do ; and that is why he secured Arthur. If it was not so, it was 
because he was in the way. Anyhow, we can get nothing from the 
rascal, so I mean to go up the river again. I have ray plans workino- ” 

“But, Henry!” 

“ Only ^ to try and find him ; for Harley’s and Hilton’s men have 
made a miserable failure of it all.” 

Mrs. Bolter sighed, but she made no opposition ; and then further con- 
versation was ended by the arrival of Gray Stuart with Hilton, both 
looking so satisfied and happy that Mrs. Bolter exclaimed : 

‘ ‘ Why, whatever now ! ” 

The doctor chuckled, and cried : 

“ Oh ! that’s it, is it I Oh ! Gray ! I thought you meant to bo a 
female old bachelor all your life ! ” 

“ I have persuaded her that it is folly,” said Hilton. 

“ But I always thought it was to be Chumbley ! ” cried the doctor. 
“ Here, I say, this is a horrible take-in.” 

“I thought the same, doctor,” said Hilton, smiling; “and have 
been making myself very miserable about what is a misconception, 
though Gray here owns to thinking Chum the best and truest of men.” 

“ And I’m sure he is I ” cried Mrs. Doctor, enthusiastically. 

“ Here, I say I ” cried the doctor, banging his hand down on the 
table, “ this won’t do ! Am I to sit and hoar a man praised to mv very 
face ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Bolter, quickly; “ if it is Chumbley; and if Gray 
had chosen with my eyes, she would have taken him instead.” 

“ But she did not choose with your eyes, my dear,” said the doctor, 
smiling ; “ and she was wise ? ” 

“ And why so ? ” cried Mrs. Bolter, tartly. 

“ Because she saw what a bad one you were at making a choice, my 
dear. Look at me for a husband. Miss Stuart ; this was the best she 
could do.” 

“ Oh, Henry I for shame I ” cried Mrs. Doctor. “ There I I’ll say no 
more, only that I hardly forgive you, Hilton ; and I toll you frankly 
that you have won a far better wife than you deserve ! ” 

“ Then I’m sure wc shall be the best of friends over it, Mrs. Bolter ! ” 
said Hilton, merrily, “for I have been repeating that sentiment almost 
word for word.” 

“ There, there, there — the young people know best,” said the doctor. 
“ I congratulate you both ; and I must be off now to see Perowne. But 
here is somebody coming. Mrs. Barlow, I believe.” 

“ Henry, pray say I’m out I ” cried Mrs. Bolter, starting up. “ I 
really cannot meet that woman to-day I ” and she made for the door. 


846 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“It’s all right. Don’t go, my dear; it’s only Stuart,” said tho 
doctor, chuckling. 

“ And you said it "svas that horrible Mrs. Barlow on purpose to 
frighten me ! It’s a very great shame — it is indeed ! ” 

“ Ye’re right, Mrs. Bolter,” said the little dry Scotch merchant, ap- 
pearing in the doorway ; “ it is a great shame ! After all my care and 
devotion, and the money I have spent in her education, here’s this 
foolish girl takes a fancy to a red coat, and says she shan’t be happy 
without she marries it ! ” 

“ Pray, pray, papa ! No, dear father, don’t talk like that ! ” said 
Gray, crossing to him, as he took a chair, and resting her hand upon his 
shoulder. 

“ Oh, but it’s enough to make any man speak ! ” he cried. “ I sup- 
pose it’s natural though, Mrs. Bolter ? ” 

“ Of course it is, Mr. Stuart ; and if Captain Hilton undertakes to 
make her a good husband, why you must be very thankful.” 

“Humph! I suppose so; but mind this ; you can’t be wed till the 
chaplain’s found ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! I say, doctor, that will stir up Hilton 
here ! ” 

“ We are making earnest efforts to find him without that,” said Hilton, 
warmly. 

“ Oh, are you ? ” said the old merchant. “ Well, look here, just a 
few business words in the presence of witnesses before I go up to 
Perowne, for I promised to go and smoke a pipe with the poor fellow, 
who’s as sick in body as he is in pocket and mind.” 

“ I’m going there, and we’ll trot over together,” said the doctor. 

“ Verra good,” said old Stuart. “ So now look here, Master Hilton, 
commonly called Captain Hilton, you came to me to-day saying that 
you had my child’s consent to ask mo to give her to you for a wife.” 

“ Yes, sir, and I repeat it.” 

“ Well, I sort of consented, didn’t I ? ” 

“ You did, sir.” 

“ Good ; but once more— you know I’m a verra poor man ? ” 

“ I know you are not a rich one, sir.” 

“ That’s right, Hilton. And you ken,” he continued, getting excited 
and little more Scottish of accent — “ ye ken that w'hen puir Perowne 
failed, he owed me nearly sax hundred pounds ? ” 

“ I did hear so, sir.” 

“ Well, I meant to give little Gray here that for a ■wedding-portion, 
and now it’s all gone.” 

“I’m glad of it, sir,” cried Hilton, warmly, “for I am only a poor 
fellow with my pay and a couple of hundred a year besides ; but in a 
very few years’ time I shall be in the receipt of another two hundred 
and fifty a year, so that we shall not hurt.” 

Gray crossed to him, and put her arm through his, as she nodded and 
smiled in his face. 

“ Ye’re a pair o’ feckless babies ! ” cried old Stuart. “ So ye mean to 
say ye’ll be content to begin life on nothing but W'hat ye’ve got, 
Hilton ? ” 

“ To be sure, sir ! AVhy not ? ” 


MORE MATING. 


347 


“To be sure ! Why not? ” said Mrs. Bolter. “ I don’t approve of 
people marrying for money, Mr. Stuart ; and I’m glad they act in so 
honest a spirit ! Do yoii know, Mr. Hilton, I began my life out hero 
hating Helen Perowne, and thoroughly disliking you ; and now, do you 
know, she has made mo love her ; and as for you, I never liked yon half 
so well before, and I wish you both every joy, and as happy a life as I 
live myself when Henry stays at home, and does not glory in teasing 
me in every way he can ! ” 

“ Thank you, Mrs. Bolter ! ” cried Hilton, warmly. “ I don’t wonder, 
though, that you should dislike me, for I did not show you a very 
pleasant side of my character.” 

“ Well,” said old Stuart, rising, “ you and I may as well be off, doctor. 
Poor Perowne will be glad to hear you chat a bit about Helen ; and as 
for you two young and foolish people, why — ha ! ha ! ha ! you had 
better make friends with the doctor. He has always been petting my 
little girl ; now’s the time for him to do something a little more solid.” 

“ I’m sure,” said Mrs. Doctor, warmly, “ Gray shall not go to the 
altar without a little dowry of her own — eh, Henry? ” 

“ To be sure, my dear ! ” said the doctor — “ to be sure ! ” 

“ Nay, nay, nay ! ” cried old Stuart, showing his teeth ; “ hang your 
little dowries ! I want something handsome down ! ” 

“ Oh, father ! ” cried Gray, turning scarlet with shame. 

“ You hold your tongue, child ! I want the doctor to do something 
handsome for you out of his findings at Ophir — Solomon’s gold. Bolter ! 
Ha, ha, ha ! ” 

“ Laugh away ! ” cried the doctor ; “ but I shall astonish you 

yet!” 

“ Gad, Bolter, ye will when ye mak’ anything out o’ that! ” cried 
the little merchant. “ Don’t let him run after shadows any more, Mrs. 
Bolter. Well, Hilton, my boy, I won’t play with you,” he said, hold- 
ing out his hand, as he spoke now, with Gray held tightly to his side, 
and the tears in his pale blue eyes. “I’m a pawkie, queer old Scot, 
but I believe my heart’s in the right place.” 

“ I’m sure ” began Hilton. 

“Let me speak, my lad ! ” cried the old man. “I always -said to 
myself that I should like the lad who wooed my little lassie here to 
love her for herself alone, and I believe you do. Hold your tongue a 
bit, my lad ! I’ve always been a careful, plodding fellow, and such a 
screw," that people always looked upon me as poor ; but I’m not, Hilton : 
and thank Heaven I can laugh at such a loss as that I have had ! Heaven 
bless you, my lad ! You’ve won a sweet, true woman for your wife ; 
and let me tell you that you’ve won a rich one. My lassie’s marriage 
portion is twenty thousand pounds on the day she becomes your wife, 
and she’ll have more than double that when the doctor kills me some 
day, as I am sure he wmII.” 

Mr. Stuart ! ” cried Hilton. 

“Hold your tongue, lad — not a word! Good-night, Mrs. Bolter. 
Doctor, old friend, if you don’t take me up to Perowue’s, and prescribe 
pipes and a glass o’ whuskee, I shall sit down and cry like a child.” 

Ho was already at the door, and the doctor followed him out, leaving 


S48 


ONE MAID’S mSCHIEF. 


Hilton, as he aftenvards told his old companion, not knowing whether 
he was awake or in a dream. 

But he was awake decidedly, as Mrs. Bolter could have told, for 
dream-kisses never sound so loud as those which he printed on the lips 
of his future wife. 

• *•#»♦** 

“ Oh, it’s all right ! ” said Chumblcy ; “ and I wish you joy I I knew 
the little lassie loved you months ago I ” 


CIIAPTEB LXXXVI. 

FOR ANOTHER SEARCH. 

** By Jove, we’ve forgotten all about the parson ! ” exclaimed Chumbloy 
« What’s become of him ? ” 

“ I say, Chumbley, old fellow, we must be getting into a terrible state 
of mind to go on like this without troubling ourselves about our chaplain 
Here comes the doctor.” 

“ And Harley not far behind.’* 

“ Doctor, ahoy ! ” shouted Chumbley. 

“ AV ell, lads — well, lads,” cried the little doctor, bustling up. “ What 
news ? ” 

“ That’s w'hat w'e were going to ask you, doctor. What next ? ” 

“ AVhy, now, my dear boys, that the troubles are about over, my prin- 
cipal patient quite safe, and people seem settling down, with no enemies 
to fear, it seems to me just the time for making a fresh start up the 
river.” 

« To ” 

“ Exactly, my dear Chumbley ; to take up the clue where I left of? 
when I found Helen Perowne, and go on and discover the gold-workings.” 

“ The gold-workings, doctor ? ” cried Hilton, W'onderingly. 

“ To he sure, my dear fellow. Mind, I don’t say that Solomon’s ships 
ever came right up this river ; but they certainly came here and traded 
wdth the Sakais or Jacoons, the aboriginals of the country, who worked 
the gold from surface-mines and brought it down to the coast.” 

“ Cut and dried, eh, doctor ? ” said Chumbley. 

“ Dried, of course, my dear fellow. I don’t know about the cut. I 
feel more and more convinced that here we have the true Ophir of 
Solomon ; audit only wants a little enterprise, such as I am bringing to 
bear ” _ 

“But you don’t mean to say,” cried Hilton, “ that you are going off 
on another expedition of this sort, doctor ? ” 

“ Indeed but I do, sir ! ” 

“ And what does Mrs. Doctor say ? ” asked Chumbley. “ Does she 
approve ? ” 

“ Of course, my dear boy. Don’t you see that I am combining the 
journey with one in search of my brother-in-law ? ” 


FOR AxVOTHER SEARCH. 


S49 


“ Oh,” said Hilton, drily, “ I see.” 

_ “ Harley’s people are back without any news, and my little wife is 
distracted about it ; vows she’ll go herself if I don’t find him. And then 
there’s that Mrs. Barlow. I was up all night with her. Hysterical, 
and shrieking 'Arthur ! ’ at intervals like minute-guns.” 

“ She has started a devoted attachment to the chaplain, hasn’t she ? ” 
asked Chumbley. 

“ Dreadful I ” replied the doctor. “ It makes me think that the poor 
fellow is best away, for she certainly means to marry him when ho 
comes back. I say, Chumbley, you’re a big fellow ! ” 

“ Granted, oh, wise man of the east ! ” 

“ You have no income ? ” 

“ The munificent pay awarded by Her Majesty’s Government to a lieu- 
tenant of foot, my dear doctor, as you perfectly well know.” 

“ Exactly,” continued the doctor. “ And you would not be afraid of 
a widow ? ” 

“ No, I don’t think I should.” 

“ Then marry Mrs. Barlow. She is to be had for the asking, I am 
sure ; and she has a nice bit of money. It would be a catch for you, and 
relieve poor Arthur Rosebury from further trouble.” 

“ Hilton, old man,” said Chumbley, solemnly, “ do you think there is 
a crocodile in the river big enough to receive this huge carcase of mine ? ” 

“ Doubtful,” said Hilton, laughing. 

“1 agree with you, Hilton; it is doubtful. But sooner would I 
plunge in and be entombed there than in the affections of Barlow. No, 
doctor, if you have my health at heart you must prescribe differently 
from that. I say, though, don’t you take it rather coolly about the 
chaplain ? ” 

“Coolly? Not I, my dear fellow; but how can a man like me sit 
down and snivel ? Here am I watching Helen PeroAvne one day, her 
father the next ; then up all night with Billy — I mean Mrs. — Barlow ; 
without taking into consideration the calls to Private Thomas Atkins — 
who has eaten too much plaintain and mangosteen, and thinks he has 
the cholera; Mrs. Ali Musto Rafoo, who is in a fidget about her off- 
spring ; and all the livers of the European residents to keep in gear. I 
sjiy I have no time to think of anything.” 

“ But Solomon’s gold mines,” said Chumbley. 

“ Get out with your chaff ! ” cried the doctor. “ But seriously, I have 
got hold of that fellow Yusuf, and he tells me he thinks he can find the 
chaplain, and I am just off. I couldn’t help the allusion to the gold.” 

“ But you think it lies somewhere up-country ? ” said Chumbley, 
seriously. 

“ Sure of it, my dear boy ! ” cried the doctor, eagerly ; “ and I shall 
of course use -every effort to find Rosebury ; but to be honest, it would 
be unnatural if I did not look out for the great object of my thoughts 
at times.’* 

“What, the chaplain ?” said Hilton. 

“No, the Ophir gold mines,” said the doctor, seriously; “but 
really it is a great trouble to mo, this disappearance of my brother-in- 
law. ‘ You couldn’t go with mo, could you, Hilton ? ” 


850 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ I go ? No, I’m afraid not, doctor.” 

Chumbley gave a curious start at this, but was iramorable of aspect 
the next moment. 

“It’s my belief,” he said, quietly, “that when you come to the 
point and find the chaplain, it will bo where the aoctor wants to get to 
so earnestly.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” cried Dr. Bolter. 

“ Depend upon it he has discovered Ophir, and is sitting upon the 
gold. That’s why he does nob come back ? ” 

“ You don’t think so, do you ?.” cried the doctor, earnestly. 

“Well it is possible,” replied Chumbley. “What do you say, 
Harley ? ” he continued, as the llesident strolled up. 

“ Say about what ? ” 

“I tell the doctor that I think Kosebury has discovered Ophir, and 
that is why he does not come back. ” 

The Eesident smiled. 

“ My dear doctor,” ho said, “ when do you start ?” 

“ To-morrow morning at daybreak.” 

“ And you will take three or four men with you — say a sergeant and 
three privates ? ” 

“ Thanks, no,” said the doctor ; “ but I should like one soldier with 
mo if I can take my pick.” 

“ I will answer for it that you may.” 

“ Then I want Chumbley.” 

“ Oh, I’ll go with you ! ” cried the latter. “ Where do you mean to 
go first — to the Incho Maida’s district ? ” 

“ No,” cried the doctor ; “ what is the good of going there ? You 
know she has had the place well searched, and turned sulky, and holds 
aloof from us now. ” 

“Yes,” said Chumbley, exchanging glances with Hilton, “I know 
that. Of course she is annoyed about Murad.” 

“ Of course,” said Hilton, frankly, “ she does not like being suspected 
of connivance with the Rajah for one thing, and feels as well that at 
such a time as this her presence would be out of place and awkward.” 

“ It is a pity too,” said the Resident, “ for I would rather be on good 
terms with so enlightened a woman.” 

“Sore place,” said the doctor, in his quick, off-hand way; “give it 
time and keep it healthy, and it will soon heal up. The Inche Maida 
fancies we are suspicious of her. Wait a bit, and send her a little 
present, and then an invitation. I would not be in too great a hurry. 
Wait till the Murad business has all settled down, and she has seen that 
we are not going to usurp her land.” 

“ Yes,” said Hilton ; “I think the doctor is right.” 

“Sure I am,” said the doctor. “Diagnosed the case. Bless your 
hearts, before long her serene highness will have the vapours, or cut 
her finger, or chew too much betel, or something or another, and then 
she will send for yours truly, Henry Bolter, and all Avill be plain sailing 
again. Well, Chumbley, will you come with me ? ” 

' “Yes, doctor, on two conditions,” replied Chumbley, 

“ Firstly ? ” said the doctor. 


A FIND-NOT GOLD. 


351 


“ That I get leave. It’s too much trouble and worry to desert.” 

“ Granted,” said the doctor. “ Eh, Harley ? Eh, Hilton ? ” 

** Granted,” said the Hesident. 

“ Granted,” said Hilton. 

** That disposes of firstly,” said the doctor. “ Now then secondly ? ” 

“ That you swear not to mention Ophir more than once ; and Solomon’s 
ships seeking gold, and apes, and peacocks more than once in each 
twenty-four hours,” said Chumbley. 

‘ ‘ Come, that’s fair,” said the Hesident, laughing. 

“(Quite fair,” cried Hilton, roaring with laughter. 

“ Oh, hang It, I say ! Come, that is too hard a condition,” said the 
doctor, tilting his sun-hat on one side so as to got a good scrub at his 
head. 

“ Shan’t go without,” drawled Chumbley. 

“ Say twelve hours — once in each twelve hours,” protested the doctor. 
“I couldn’t promise more.” 

“Would you stick out for the twenty-four ?” said Chumbley, very 
seriously. “ I hate being bored.” 

“Oh, I think I’d meet him,” said Hilton, laughing. “ Poor fellow, 
he can’t help it.” 

“Well, ril give in,” said Chumbley; “only mind this, you are to 
take your best cigar-box, doctor — not those confounded manillas, but 
the havanas — and you are to pay a fine of a cigar every time you break 
out.” 

“ Agreed,” said the doctor, holding out his hand, and the expedition 
was settled, the doctor going off with the Hesident, leaving the two 
young officers together. 


CHAPTEH LXXXVn. 

A FIKD— XOT GOLD. 

“I SAY, Hilton, old fellow, I liked that,” drawled Chumbley. 

“ Liked what ? ” 

“ Why the way in which you smothered up all your old resentment, 
against that poor woman. You know you were breathing out fire and 
slaughter against her when we got away.” 

“ Well, I was angi’y then, and mortified, and troubled.” 

“ And now it’s all balm, and oil-olive, and honey, eh, old fellow ? 
The beating, bounding heart at rest.” 

Don’t be an idiot !” 

“ Why not ? The ways of wisdom are hard, and cold, and thoimy. 
Folly is pleasgnt sometimes.” 

“ You don’t think so.” 

“Indeed I do ? You heard what an idiot I was in throwing up that 
Harlowesque chance ? ” 

“ Was that meant for a pun on burlesque ?” 

** I didn’t mean it,” said Chumbley. “ Take it so if you like. But I 

23 


352 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


say, old fello\r, I am glad that you have smoothed do\rn about the 
Inche Mai da.” 

“Weak, silly woman ! ” cried Hilton. 

“ Oh, I don’t know. It was her foreign way of looking at her 
chances. These people are regular gamblers. Look at those two 
follows there fighting those game-cocks. I’ll be bound to say they are 
staking their all upon the event !” 

“ Likely enough. That scoundrel Murad staked his all and lost !”, 

“ Heavily,” said the lieutenant. “ The Princess staked heavily too 
and lost ; but thanks to you, she comes off pretty easily except in the 
disappointment. You bury that affair, of course?” 

“ Yes, of course 1 It is impossible to avoid it ! ” 

“ Agreed,” said Chumbley. “ AVell, I’m glad you kept it down ; it 
would have made us so very ridiculous. I’m off now to have a nap, 
and then to get ready my gun and things for the journey to-morrow.” 

“ I don’t know that I should care to go with you,” said Hilton. 

Won’t be bad. I shall sit back in the boat, and rest a good deal I 
daresay. Old Bolter will talk me to sleep, safe. Ta-ta.” 

“ Good-bye, old fellow ; ” and the young men separated, Chumbley 
for his quarters, Hilton to go and seek out Gray. 

The next morning at daybreak, after infinite cautions from hirs. 
Bolter, the doctor prepared to start. 

“ Is there anyone who ought to be seen — any one you remember ? ” 
said the little lady. 

‘ ‘ No one but the Barlow woman. Y’'ou might drop in there,” replied 
the doctor. 

“ Oh, no, Henry ; really I could not,” said Mrs. Bolter, wringing her 
hands. 

“Never mind, then. She won’t hurt. She said, as soon as she 
knew I was going, that she should die if I did not bring Arthur 
back. I say, my dear, it’s almost enough to make one say one wishes 
he may never come.” 

“ Oh, Henry ! ” cried Mrs. Bolter. “ I’d sooner suffer a dozen Mrs. 
Barlows than Arthur should not be found I ” 

“ Very well, then, I don’t come back without him,” said the doctor! 

“ Henry 1 ” 

“ If I can help it,” he replied ; and for the next few moments any one 
might have taken them for a gushing young couple of eighteen and 
twenty-three before they tore themselves apart, and the doctor hurried 
away. 

Love is an evergreen. Only give it fair treatment, and the leaves 
will never fall. 

“Come, doctor,” roared Chumbley, as. the little man approached the 
bait. “ Do you call this daybreak ? ” 

“Yes, broad daybreak! ” said the doctor, chuckling; and the next 
minute the boat was under weigh, with Yusuf and a crew to use the 
poles for punting over the shallows. 

The desire was strong in the doctor to devote himself a good deal to 
the pursuit of his hobby, but he sternly put it down. 

“No, Chumbley,” he said, “not this time. I’m a weak man, and 


A FIND— NOT GOLD. 


S53 


I talked to you about Sol — ahem ! — about my hobby, eh ? Didn’t say 
it that time — and if "we come across anything relating to Oph — I mean 
my hobby — •why, -well and good, we’ll investigate it ; but I mean busi- 
ness ; and Yusuf here has given me good hopes of being successful, for 
of course it is absurd to imagine that they have killed poor old 
Arthur! ” 

_ “ What do you propose doing first, then ? ” said Chumbley, rousing 
himself from a drowsy contemplation of the banks, and thinking how 
pleasantly life would glide on in a place like this. 

“I think I shall leave Yusuf to follow his own bent,” replied the 
doctor. “ He is a close, dry fellow, but he seems to know a great deal, 
and he will not speak till he is sure. That is it, is it not, Yusuf? ” 

“ Yes, master,” said the Malay, who was toiling hard with the 
doctor’s old boatman Ismael. “If I said to the chiefs I know where 
the Christian priest is, and took them to the place and he was not 
there, they would be angry. So I will take them to the place I think 
of. If the Christian priest is there, it is good. If he is not, the mis- 
fortune is not so bad, and the chiefs will not be so hard upon their 
guide.” 

i* Well, Ismael, what have you to say ? ” .said the doctor, as ho 
caught his old boatman looking at him very intently. 

“ I was thinking of the lives of all here, master,” said Ismael. “We 
do not wish to die, we people of the country; but when the time comes 
we say ‘ Yes, it is our fate, and we close our eyes ; ’ but you English 
chiefs, it is not right that you should die. We love the doctor, for ho 
is good to us, our wives and children.” 

“ Oh, all right,” said the doctor, heartily. “ What do you mean ? 
You are afraid there is risk ? ” 

“ Great danger, master I ” said Yusuf. “ Murad will surely have us 
hunted out aud slain for showing you his secret house in the jungle ! ” 

“ Another secret house, eh ? ” said Chumbley, rousing himself a little 
more. “ Well, look here, old Cockolorum.” 

Yusuf seemed to consider this a title conferring dignity, for he 
smiled gravely, and bowed. 

** And you too, old Beeswax,” continued Chumbley, addressing Ismael, 
who seemed disappointed at Yusuf getting all the honours, but who 
now smiled and bowed as well. “ You think that Murad will come 
down on you both for betraying his secrets ? ” 

“It is not betraying, master,” said Yusuf. “We have found the 
place, and we show it to you. Murad did not trust us.” 

“All right,” continued Chumbley. “Well, let me tell you this, 
that by this time Eajah Murad, or the Sultan as you call him, is safe 
under lock and key.” 

“Thy servant does not understand,” said Yusuf. 

“ The chief means he is shut up in a little box with the key in his 
pocket,” interpreted Ismael, gravely. 

“ That will do,” said Chumbley, smothering a laugh. “ He is safe 
in prison, and you will never see him here again.” 

“It is enough,” said Yusuf. “ The English are my masters, and I 
trust to them that their servant shall not have the kris.” 


S54 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


“ Now then, how long have you known of this place ? ” 

“ Two days, master : a friend told mo that his brother was there as 
guard, but he knew no more.” 

And you will take us there ? ” said Chumbley. 

“ Straight if the chief commands,” said Yusuf ; and the boat was 
urged forward. 

It was on the second day that the little boat was turned into the 
stream that had become familiar to the doctor, and he exclaimed at 
once : 

“ This won’t do. I know of that place. The chaplain is not there.” 

“ No, not there,” said Yusuf. “ We shall see.” 

The doctor gave a grunt of satisfaction, half an hour later, when, 
instead of following the windings of this minor stream, the sampan's head 
was suddenly turned towards a dense mass of tall reeds, and the men 
paddled with all their might, driving the boat through the w'ater growth, 
and after a hundred yards of rough progression, they passed into a 
large lagoon, dotted with patches of a kind of lotus and with other 
water-plants sufficiently beautiful to drive the doctor into raptures. 

“ But no,” he exclaimed; “ I will not be tempted to botanize any 
more than I will be to look upon the spots where Sol — I mean — that 


“ I say, doctor, we’ve been out over twelve hours,” drawled Chumbley, 
“ and you haven’t yet said it once. Let it go.” 

“ Solomon’s ships came in search of gold ! ” cried the doctor, as if 
relieved. 

“Well, they didn’t come here, doctor, or they would soon have 
been aground.” 

“ No : of course,” said the doctor ; “ but what I mean is, that I will 
not yield to my hobby this time until poor Arthur Eosebury is found. 
I promised his sister, and I’ll keep my word.” , 

That lagoon, or rather chain of marshy lakelets, extended for quite 
fifty miles, sometimes spreading wide, more often dwindling into little 
openings and ponds united by narrow passages with hardly a perceptible 
stream. Along this chain the boatmen dexterously sent the little 
vessel, sometimes forcing it aground, and often having hard work to 
get it through the dense vegetation that rose from the swampy 
soil. 

Two days were spent in getting to the end of the lagoon ; and landing 
upon an elevated place, they encamped for the night, the doctor chatting 
for long enough about the beautiful specimens that they had passed, 
and which he had refrained from touching. 

“ There is a remarkable flora in this region, Chumbley,” he said, 
enthusiastically. 

“I dare say there is,” said Chumbley, sleepily ; “ but your wife 
doesn’t want us to be taking back a remarkable Flora, but a matter-of- 
fact Arthur. Go to sleep, man, and let’s rest.” 

The doctor told him ho had no soul for science. 

“ Not a bit, doctor. Good night ; ” and the great fellow was asleep 
in an instant. 

“Wo are very near the place now,” said the guide, as they partook of 


A FIND— NOT GOLD. 


S55 


a hearty breakfast, Yusuf having speared some of the fish that abounded 
in the waters near. 

“ But we’ve got to the end of the lake,” said the doctor. 

“ Yes, master ; and now we must walk.” 

The way proved to bo a long and toilsome journey, through the 
stifling heat of the jungle, which was here tolerably open, and so full 
of specimens attractive to the doctor that he fidgeted with disappoint- 
ment at having to pass them by. He, however, resolutely refrained 
from attempting to collect, and only forfeited one cigar by the time 
that, after their weary tramp, gun in hand, the guide pointed to a low 
palm-thatched house, within a strong bamboo palisade, which pro- 
tected a garden. 

“ AVho’d have thought of finding a house here ? ” said Chumbley, who 
began to think of the Inche Maida’s hiding-place, to which this was 
very similar. “ Hut where is the pathway ? ” 

“ On the other side, master. I brought you all round this way so as 
not to alarm the guards. They might have taken their prisoner 
farther into the jungle where he could not be found.” 

A short consultation was held, and then Chumbley’s proposal was 
carried in opposition to the more timid one of the guide’s. 

Chumbley’s was the very soldier-like one of draw and advance. 

This they did, the men with their spears, and Chumbley and the 
doctor double gun in hand ; and after a little struggle with nothing 
more dangerous than canes, they forced their way round to the front 
of the place and entered, to find everything just as if it had been 
inhabited an hour before, but neither prisoner nor guards were there. 

“ The birds are flown,” said Chumbley, after they had searched the 
half-dozen airy rooms that formed the place. 

“ Yes,” said the doctor, “ but he has been here. Look ! ” 

He pointed to a couple of long shelves made by placing bamboos 
together, and upon them, carefully dried, were hundreds of botanical 
specimens, laid as only a botanist would have placed them. 

There was the chance of the prisoner returning, but it hardly seemed 
probable ; and after some hours’ waiting, it was decided to return to the 
boat, to pass the night there, and return the next day. 

The tramp back seemed harder than the advance ; but they persevered 
and at last, soaked with perspiration and utterly wearied out, they came 
in sight of the lagoon head, where Chumbley uttered a sigh of satis- 
faction. 

“ I wonder what’s for dinner,” he said. “ Eh ? ” 

He turned sharply, for Yusuf uttered an ejaculation, and stood 
pointing to where, seated in an opening and leaning against a tree, was 
the figure of a man, ragged, unshorn, and looking the picture of misery. 

“ Hurrah ? ” shouted Chumbley, dashing forward, the doctor panting 
after him ; but the figure did not move, seeming to be asleep with its 
head drooped forward upon its breast. 

“ Eosebury ! ” cried Chumbley — “ Rosebury I ” but there was no reply. 

Arthur f” cried the doctor, sinking on one knee beside the haggard, 
hollow-cheeked figure, and changing the position so that its head 
rested upon his arm. 


S56 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEP. 


“ Dead ? ” whispered Chumbley, in awe-stricken tones. 

“He would have been in an hour!” cried the doctor. “ Quick I 
your flask. There, that will do— a few drops with water. That’s 
right. Now soak a biscuit well. Crumble it up, man — quick, in the 
cup.” 

A few drops at a time were poured between the parched lips, and as 
Arthur Eosebury showed signs of revival, a little of the soaked biscuit 
was administered ; while Yusuf and Ismael rapidly cut down grass and 
contrived a rough bed, upon which the suffering man was laid. 

“Is it fever?” said Chumbley, gazing down at the hollow checks 
and wild, staring eyes that had not a spark of recognition therein. 

“The fever that men have who are starving,” cried the doctor. 
“ Poor fellow ! he has not had food for a week.” 

It was after three days’ camping out beside the boat in a rough 
shanty which the Malays built up, that the Eeverend Arthur Eosebury 
came round sufficiently to be able to recognize and talk to his friends. 

“It’s fortunate for you, old fellow, that you had a doctor to find 
you,’' said Bolter. “ Por — I say it without boasting — if I had not been 
W'ith Chumbley, you would never have seen Sindang again.” 

“ And shall I now ? ” he said in a feeble voice. 

“ To be sure you will, and the sooner the better,” said the doctor. 
“ I want more nourishing food for you, so we’ll make up a couch in the 
stern of the boat, and then get on towards home.” 

“I’ll try and bear being moved,” he said feebly, “ but — but— but — ” 

“ But what ? ” said the doctor, quietly. “ There, don’t worry. I see. 
You have forgotten what you wanted to say. It will come again. 
Shut your eyes and go to sleep.” 

Arthur Eosebury was so pitifully weak that he wms ready to obey 
anybody ; and he sank back and seemed to go to sleep at once with the 
doctor and Chumbley seated by his side. 

“ I want some explanation of all this,” said Chumbley, in his draw- 
ling way. 

“ So do I,” said the doctor ; “ but we must wait, my dear boy. He’s 
as weak as water, and I can’t trouble him with questions. You see, 
his Jjrain is affected by his bodily want of tone ; but it will soon come 
right if we are patient.” 

It seemed to the chaplain as if he had not been asleep when he aw'oke 
five hours later, and looking at the doctor he went on where he ceased 
before dozing off ; but this time he did not forget. 

“ Where is Helen Perowne ? ” he asked. 

“ Safe at home,” replied the doctor. 

“ That is well,” said the chaplain. “ I have been troubled by a 
dreamy idea that she was carried off when I was by the Malays, and 
that I was kept to marry Helen to some one else.” 

“ What some one else? ” said the doctor, 

“ I fancied it was Murad,” said the chaplain, feebly ; “ but my head is 
confused and strange. W^t of Mary ? ” 

“ Quite well, and anxious to see you again. There, lie back, and we 
will lift you in this waterproof sheet so gently that you will hardly 
know you have been moved.” 


A FIND— NOT GOLD. 


357 


The chaplain lay back, and seemed to drop asleep again as he -vras 
lifted into the boat, which put off at once ; and in high spirits with the 
successful termination of their quest, the Malays worked well, and sent 
the sampan skimming over the still waters of the lagoon. 

They did not cease poling and paddling all night, and halted at last 
to land, after catching some fish, which, when broiled, made a good 
addition to the biscuits and coffee. 

The chaplain ate heartily, and seemed to enjoy the warm sunshine as 
they -went on again over the sparkling waters of the lake. He talked, 
too, and asked Chumbley to sit by him, but seemed to have very little 
memory, till all at once he cried, in a piteous tone : 

“ My specimens ! — my specimens I We must not leave them 
behind I ” 

The doctor took off his hat and rubbed his head, for his feelings were 
(^uite with the chaplain ; but to go back and land, and search the house 
in the jungle, meant over a day’s work, and he said, decidedly : 

“ No : it is impossible to go now ! ” 

“ But they are the work of w’eeks and months of labour ! ” protested 
the chaplain. “ If you had only seen them I ” 

“ My dear Arthur, I have seen them,” said the doctor. “ They will 
not hurt, and as soon as you are well again we will fetch them.” 

The chaplain sank back in his place with a sigh ; and as the journey 
was continued he told his friends of his long imprisonment, and of how, 
as a resource, he had settled down to botanizing. 

This had gone on steadily till about a fortnight back, w'hen he noticed 
that his guards were whispering together a good deal, and that evening 
he missed them, and no meal was prepared.* 

The next day no one was visible, and ho found what provision there 
was, and did the best he could, and so on the next day, when, finding 
that he was regularly deserted, ho made up his mind to escape, and 
started off, following the ti*act that led from the house, to find that it 
ended by a little river. 

There was no possibility of getting to right or left to follow the 
stream, on account of the jungle, and after a weary day he was glad to 
go back to his prison and sleep. 

The following days were taken up in efforts to find a path that would 
lead to some inhabited place, but the efforts- were in vain ; and though 
he sought constantly, he could not retrace his steps to the house where 
he had seen the Malay lady trying to get away. Everywhere it was 
jungle — a wilderness of jungle — and the only possibility of escape was 
by one of the streams, or by way of the lagoon, which he had discovered 
in his botanical wanderings. 

He had no boat, nor the ingenuity to contrive one. To have attempted 
to wade down a stream meant courting death by the reptiles ; so the 
chaplain’s many wanderings in the wilderness took him over the same 
ground day after day, and always back to his prison. 

Then the scant supply of provision was exhausted ; there was no fruit 
to be found ; he had no gun, and could contrive no means of capturing 
fish ; and the result was that, growing weaker day by day, and more 
helpless, he realized how safe was the prison in the jungle in which ho 


358 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


had been shut up ; and at last sat down, to gradually sink into a stupor, 
from which, but for the coming of his friends, he would never have 
recovered. 

Even when he was taken in safety to the landing-stage, he was too 
feeble to walk, and fainted as ho was carried to his brother-in-law’s 
house. 


CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 

A5IOIC ! 

Singapore on a sunny day, looking bright, attractive, even wonderful to 
stranger eyes. Ships of all nations in the harbour, with sailors from 
Europe, from America, from the ports about the Red Sea, from India, 
China, and Japan. 

A wonderful polyglot assembly rubbing shoulders in the streets : 
Jack in his white duck frock, straw, and loose trousers, staring at John 
Chinaman, with his blue cotton garments, pith-soled shoes, and pigtail 
reaching almost to the ground. Swarthy Dyaks, Papuans, Bugis, and 
Malays pure and Malays mongrel from the many islands of the Eastern 
seas, every opalescent-eyed, s;warthy savage wearing his kris. British 
soldiers mingled with the native police in their puggrees ; and busy 
English merchants, and many Scotch, hurried with the varied races on 
their way to and from their places of business. 

Above all, the Chinese seemed to muster strongly — those busy, patient, 
plodding people, who are rSady to squeeze themselves into any A^acant 
hole, round or square, and to make themselves fit therein. Barbers, 
carriers, purveyors of fruit, washers of clothes, shampooers, tailors, 
cooks, waiters, domestic servants, ahvaj’-s ready, patient and willing, 
childlike and bland — John Chinaman swarms in Singapore, and can bo 
found there as the meanest workman or artisan, up to the wealthiest 
merchant or banker, like the late Mr. Whampoa, whose gardens were 
one of the lions of the place. 

Everything looked at its best in the pure air and under the brilliant 
sky ; and Hilton and Chumbley were on their way to meet Mr. Harley, 
who, now that Helen Perowne had been pronounced quite out of danger, 
had come down with a lighter heart to be present at the trial of the 
Malay chief Murad, who w'as to be tried by a jury of his felloAV-country- 
men for his treachery to an English lady, and for firing upon a vess'el 
bearing the English flag. 

“ Not a bad place this. Chum, old felloAv,” said Hilton. “ I could 
stay a month with comfort.” 

“ Yes, so could I,” said Chumbley, lazily ; “but I want to get back.” 

“What for?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” was the reply. “ I say, look at that Malay lady ; 
she isn’t unlike the Inche Maida, is she ? ” 

“ H’m, no: something like. I say, though, old fellow, I don’t feel 
very easy about that affair. It hardly seems just that that Avoman should 
get off scot free ! ” 


AMOK ! 


3o9 


“ Nonsense : stuff, man. Let the poor body rest. Why, how un- 
gallant you are ! She fell in love with you, and wanted to marry you ! ” 
Very condescending of her, I’m sure,” said Hilton. “ Hut really, I 
think I shall tell Harley that she captured us. He believes Murad was 
at the bottom of it all.” 

“ I beg you will do nothing of the kind ! ” said Chumbley, firing up. 
“ I shall take it as a personal affront if you do. You promised me you 
would not.” 

“ Why, hallo ! Is that you. Chum ? You haven’t taken a fancy to 
the woman, have you ? ” 

“ Never you mind, if 1 say, draw your sword, man ! Look out ! ” 

cried Chumbley, excitedly, as he drew his weapon from its sheath. 
“There’s one of those mad Malay demons running a-muck ! ” 

As he spoke there was a shouting and shrieking heard in the street 
between the Chinese bazaars ; right in front people were running 
frantically, as if for their lives, while from the direction of the prison 
they could see a nearly nude Malay with a red handkerchief tied round 
his head, and a flaming yellow sarong about his waist, in strong contrast 
to the white and blue clothed crowd who were skurrying here and 
there. 

Hilton’s flrst instinct was to follow the example of the rest, and 
turn down some sideway or into a store ; but as he saw first one and 
then another unfortimate stagger and fall where the fierce Malay 
dashed on, striking right and left, a feeling of rage took possession of 
him, and he felt ready to assist in the capture of the fanatic, who was 
racing on, followed now by a mixed crowd of armed men, shouting ^Yith 
all their might, Amok / amok ! ” 

The Malay, with rolling eyes, foaming lips, and teeth gnashing 
like some wild beast, rushed towards the young officers. He was 
striking right and left with his kris, and two more men who had tried 
to intercept him fell from the deadly thrusts. Then a native woman was 
stabbed in the throat, and the savage enthusiast was making straight 
for where a couple of Indian nurses with some European children were 
cowering against a wall, too much alarmed to do anything but shriek. 

This roused Hilton and Chumbley to action ; and they interposed 
be ween the shrieking women and the Malay. 

They were both good swordsmen as far as military teaching goes ; 
but the Malay paid no more heed to their blunt regulation weapons than 
if they had been made of lath. 

Hilton was first, and as he tried to guard himself from a thrust, the 
Malay leaped \ipon him and drove his kris through the fleshy part of 
his arm, and Chumbley stumbled over him. 

With a shrill yell the Malay dashed on, struck at one of the women, 
who fell, and would have stabbed the children ; but the fierce crowd 
was after him — a crowd gradually augmented, and among whom were 
three or four armed soldiers and a couple of the native police, each 
bearing what seemed to be a large pitchfork. 

The Malay rushed on headlong, stabbing right and left, and marking 
his way with the bodies of the victims as he continued his fearful 
course, devoting himself to death, but with the furious thirst for blood 


SGO 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


displayed in such cases, -where the AmoJc runner kills all ho can, and 
goes on till he is either shot down or brought to bay. 

Every now and then a Malay -would make a stab at the savage as 
he passed, some of which blows took effect ; but for the most part the 
runner escaped unhurt — the frightened people in the streets fleeing for 
life, with the consequence that here and there quite a little knot would 
be driven into a corner, crowding, shrieking together, unable to escape, 
and the outside unfortunates would receive lightning-like stabs before 
the wretch who delivered them raced on. 

Chumbley rose to his feet and hastily tied a handkerchief round 
Hilton’s bleeding arm, the latter turning faint, and having to be helped 
into a Chinaman’s shop close at hand, the owner creeping from beneath 
his counter as the officers came in. 

“ Don’t stop for me,” said Hilton. “ I’m all right.” 

Chumbley hesitated for a moment, and then ran out to see that the 
Amok runner had been turned and was coming back at full speed, 
apparently full of vigour as ever, though he was streaming with blood 
and striking savagely at any one who came in his way. 

The young officer saw two more victims fall, and then the Malay 
dashed down a sideway, making for the harbour, now affording an oppor- 
tunity for a couple of shots to be sent after him, neither of which, how- 
ever, seemed to take effect. 

On came the shouting crowd of pursuers, thirsting for the Malay’s 
blood, their object being to destroy him with as little compunction as 
they would a mad dog ; but they did not gain upon him, and it was not 
until he had left several more inoffensive people weltering in their blood, 
that he turned at bay with his back to a blank wall, yelling, gnashing 
his teeth, and striking fiercely at his assailants with his dripping kris. 

Suddenly, with a quick motion, one of the native policemen made a 
dart with the huge pitchfork he carried, his object being to strike the 
tines on either side of the madman and hold him pinned against the wall ; 
but he was too quick, for he darted aside, and striking fiercely with his 
kris, started off afresh, but running more- slowly now, for he was 
growing weak. 

Still his thirst for blood was not assuaged, and running on he struck 
do-wn a couple of Chinamen before he was again brought to bay in a 
kind of pool, where he stood glaring and displaying his teeth — a savage 
beast, apparently, more than man — and ready to fight for his life to the 
very last. 

For mad or no, the Amolc runner knew that his fate was to be de- 
stroyed like some tiger. The native policemen’s instructions were to 
take him prisoner, so as to bring such offender to trial ; but the ma- 
jority of these fanatics are hunted to their death. 

And it was so here, for as the police advanced cautiously, one of them 
falling back directly with a slight stab in his breast, a cleverly-thro-wn 
spear passed right through the savage’s neck, and he fell in the muddy 
pool. 

It was a horrible sight to see the wild face rise again above the sur- 
face as its owner tried to struggle to his feet ; but it was a vain effort. 
He was thrust imder, pinned into the mud by. half a dozen spears and 


THE HAJAH AT HOME. 


S61 


bayonets, and a few bubbles rising to the surface, showed that the 
wretch’s career was at an end. 

Chumbley, big, strong man as he was, felt sick as he stood there 
leaning on his sword, while with shouts of triumph the mob of mingled 
nationality dragged the corpse from the muddy pool. 

“ You here, Chumbley ? ” said a familiar voice, and ho turned to see 
Mr. Harley. 

“ Yes ; what a horrid affair ! ” 

“ Horrible 1 We don’t often have them now. It is a native custom 
that is dying out. You know, I suppose, when a Malay has committed 
some crime that makes his parden hopeless, or when some strong desire 
for reverge seizes him, he runs Amok — a mttcTc^ as people call it — and 
then the innocent suffer till he is put out of the way.” 

‘ ‘ Then you think they are not mad ? ” said Chumbley, who could not 
withdraw his eyes from the ghastly corpse, round which the slayers 
stood in triumph. 

Mad w'ith frenzy or enthusiasm,” said Harley, “ some of them think 
it an heroic death to die and Good Heavens ! — it is Murad 1 ” 

“ No ! ” cried Chumbley. 

It was. The Eajah had escaped from prison, had run Amok through 
the streets of Singapore, and the disfigured clay that lay there in the 
mud and blood, was all that remained of the abductor of Helen Perowne. 

The two English spectators turned away with a shudder, and hurried 
to where poor Hilton lay back, rather faint from his wound, which was 
too slight, however, to be of a lasting nature. 

Four poor creatures died from Murad’s kris, and sixteen were 
wounded more or less severely before he was slain. 


CHAPTER LXXXIX. 

TUB RAJAH AT HOME. 

Five years had passed away before, after a long stay on the China station. 
Major Hilton found an opportunity, on the regiment being ordered home, 
to land at Singapore, and take his young wife with him up-country, to 
pay a long-promised visit to her old schoolfellow at the Residency at 
Sindang. 

The doctor and Mrs. Bolter had gone home the year before, in com- 
pany with the chaplain, who longed for the peace of his own country 
once more ; and letters said that the doctor was going to take a quiet 
country practice, where his brother-in-law, still a bachelor, had settled 
down. 

For though Mrs. Barlow, in addition to her wealth, had proffered that 
style of love-offering known to keepsake-'vvriters as blandishments, tlie 
Reverend Arthur had a sore heart that never healed, and he refused to 
listen to the voice of the charmer, but contented himself with a true 
friendship for Helen, her husband, old Stuart, and Mr. Perowne. 

Otherwise there had been but little change at Sindang ; the new Rajah 


362 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


being a quiet, gentlemanly man, growing more European in his ways 
year by year. 

The Eesidency looked very bright and charming as the Major and his 
wife caught sight of the island from the deck of the steamer; and in 
spite of the heat, it was a delightful home, where Helen seemed to lead 
a life of calm repose, looking handsomer than ever with her large eyes, 
dark hair, and delicate creamy complexion; but there was a change 
visible : she seemed softened and dreamy, and whenever her husband 
spoke, there was a bright, eager look of joy, that lit up her features and 
told well of her married life. 

The meeting between Helen and Gray was almost pathetic in its 
warmth ; and for a long time there was no chance for the gentlemen to 
speak. 

Their meeting, too, was wonderfully warm ; and while the Resident 
saw how broad-chested and sunbrowned the Major had become, Hilton 
had been noting how fair Helen’s skin remained, in spite of her long stay 
in a tropic land ; but when she smiled, there W'as still a faint trace left 
of disfigurement at the lower part of her teeth. 

As for the Resident, he looked the beau ideal of a middle-aged English 
gentleman, and brighter and happier than Hilton had ever seen him 
before ; while, as to the old sore, it was quite healed up ; and the 
meeting between Hilton and Helen was just that of old friends ; 
nothing more. 

“ And now about Chumbley ? ” said Hilton, as they sat after dinner sip- 
ping their claret in the vei'anda, watching the fire-flies, and listening to 
the plashing of boat or reptile in the. placid, rapid-flowing, starlit 
stream. 

There had been inquiries before ; but the time had been so taken up, 
that Chumbley’s career had been pretty well left out till now ; when, as 
the two gentlemen sat smoking, an open door showed them the draw’- 
ing-room with its shaded lamp, and the faces of the two graceful women 
— their wives — as they sat and chatted of old school troubles, and the 
other incidents of their career. 

“ About old Chum ? ” said the Resident ; “ oh, I often see him. He 
should have been here if I had known you were so close at hand. You 
know he came back six months after the company was changed, went 
straight up to the Incho Maida’s place, brought her back, and they went 
down to Singapore, got married, and returned directly.” 

“ And has ho repented ? ” said Hilton. 

“ Go and see him, and judge for yourself.” 

The result was, that one fine morning Hilton had himself rowed up 
to the Incho Maida’s home, at Campong Selah, where, on landing, ho 
found that he was received with the most profound respect, and con- 
ducted to the palm-tree house, which was now surrounded by a most 
carefully-cultivated garden. 

, On entering the place, he found himself in what might have been a 
country gentleman’s home, the hall being full of sporting trophies, arms, 
and the paraphernalia of an occupant of sporting tastes. 

“ What, Hilton I Never ! ” cried a bluff voice, and Chumbley, in a 
semi-sporting and native costume— wearing puggree, shooting jacket. 


THE EAJAH AT HOME. 


303 


sarong, and kris — and looking bro'wn as a native, seized him by the 
hands, and nearly shook his arms out of their sockets. “ Why, I am 
glad to see you, old man ! ” 

“ How well you look, Chumbley ! ” 

“ Ay ! and you too ! Why, you dog, you’re putting on flesh ! But, 
how’s the little wife ? How are you getting on ? ” 

“ Capitally ! And you : do you like this savage life ? ” 

“ Savage be hanged. ! ” he cried “ Like it, my boy ? I should think 
I do. By George, sir, she’s a splendid woman ! Ah, here are the 
chicks.” 

As he spoke a Malay nurse brought in two little dark-eyed, creamy- 
complexioned children, who made a rush and a dash as soon as they 
were set free, and began to scale Chumbley’s knees, not ceasing till they 
were standing in-his lap, and holding on by his beard. 

“ Gently ! gently ! You’ll break me ! There never was such a pair 
of vital sparks on earth before ! Now look here, you young limbs, turn 
round and talk to this gentleman. Tell him your names.” 

“ Bertie Hilton Chumbley, Rajah of Campong Selah,” said the elder 
— a handsome little boy, in a brilliant silken sarong. 

“Gray Stuart Chumbley, pa’s own darling pet,” lisped the other — a 
bright little doll of a girl, whom her father stood up afterwards and 
proudly balanced on one of his great hands. 

“Like it,” continued Chumbley, stretching himself ; “ I never knew 
what life was till I came out here and married the Inche Maida. Ah, 
here she is.” 

Hilton, as he recalled the past, felt a little conscious ; but the Princess, 
w'ho, in spite of her dark skin, looked quite the European lady, advanced, 
holding out her hand so frankly that they were laughing and chatting 
the next minute as if they were the oldest of friends, Hilton quite win- 
ning her heart by the way in which he took to her children. 

“ You remember w'hat a mistake I made,” she said, “ and how disap- 
pointed I was when you refused me ? I did not know then what fate 
had in store.” 

“You are still a fatalist then?” said Hilton, smiling. 

“ Why not ? ” she replied, proudly, as she went behind her great 
lord’s chair, and placed her arm affectionately upon his shoulder. 

‘ Has not fate given me the best and noblest of husbands — a just and 
true man, who has become the father of my people, my protector, and 
my lord ? ” 

“ Then you are both very happy ? ” said Hilton. 

“ Happy, old boy ! ” cried Chumbley, glancing affectionately at his 
wife. “ happy isn’t the word for it : we’re thoroughly jolly, and in my 
Avay I’m a king.” 

“ But don’t you miss Europenn society? ” 

“Not I, lad. I hunt, and shoot, and drill my subjects, and sit as 
judge, and look after the revenues, and my own little parliament. I’ve 
no time to be dull ; and do you know, old chap, I don’t think I’m quite 
so slow as I was. I tell you what it is : if I had known how jolly it is 
to be a chief, I should have tried it on years before. But you’re going 
to stop, of course ? ” 


SG4 


ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


*‘rm going to beg some dinner, and then I’m going off to the 
Residency, where my wife is staying with the Harleys.” 

“ Then go back and fetch her — eh, my dear, what do you say ? ” 

“ Let us all go together and fetch her,” said the Inche Maida, smiling ; 
and Gray Hilton was fetched to spend a month at Chumbley’s homo, 
finding her old friend affectionate to a degree, while endless were the 
hunting and shooting excursions got up by the English Rajah in 
honour of his friend. 

The Hiltons have not paid another visit to the palm-tree palace on the 
river where Chumbley has his home, but they hear from him occa- 
sionally as well as from the Harleys, and the reports always tell of 
perfect happiness in their far-off land. 

“ I tell you what it is, Gray,” says Hilton to his wife, the day after 
they had reached England, and she had held up her last little offering 
for him to kiss its tiny wet mouth, “ I’ll bet a five-pound note that old 
Chumbley would give something if his youngsters were as fair as that ; ” 
and Gray says that for her part she does not think the colour of the 
skin matters so long as the heart is in its right place, to which her 
father, who has just come in, says : 

“ That’s a verra good remairk, my dear. Do you know I’m glad to 
my heart I’ve managed to scrape five thousand together out of Per- 
owne’s estate, and the old man has settled it upon his children ! ” 

“ Five thousand ! a nice little bonne bouche for Harley I ” says Hilton. 

“ A man who thoroughly deserves it,” says his wife ; “ for I’m sure 
a, truer-hearted gentleman never existed. But I have had a letter 
from Helen, and she tells me that Mr. Harley is coming to England 
for a year’s leave. I am to answer to the hotel in Paris. What am I 
to say ? ” 

“ Say ? ” cried Hiltou ; “ tell her and her husband that we are com- 
fortably settled here, and as long as there is a roof and a bed, with some- 
thing in the way of rations, there will always be a welcome for them 
both. ” 




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